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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27835399">under the emerald moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/haejungg/pseuds/jeah'>jeah (haejungg)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods &amp; Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Corruption, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Heroes to Villains, M/M, Magic, Minecraft, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot Twists, Political Campaigns, Reincarnation, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Villains to Heroes, War, Witches, corrupted governments, fall of the hero, ghosts gods and glory, there are only 3 g's important in this world, this is really a ghost story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:48:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27835399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/haejungg/pseuds/jeah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He used to be a god. Once. But he wanted too much, craved for something unexplainable, something otherworldly. Now he’s fallen to the earth and wanders aimlessly as he watches an entirely new world emerge on the lands he used to hold in the palms of his hand. </em>
</p><p> <br/>  <em>He lost everything. But the time for wandering aimlessly is at an end. He has one goal now - to find the one who led to his downfall in the first place. Amidst cries for war and talk of magic in the air, the world as he knows it is changing. He can only hope that he can fulfill his final quest before it’s too late. </em></p><p> </p><p>a ghost story about redemption and recovery.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. welcome and goodbye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i legitimately think i was possessed while writing this. i came up with this a few days ago, could not get it out of my head, so now im posting it just to get it out of my system. could potentially delete soon. no idea. i think this is an interesting idea and i want to practice writing fantasy more. my heads a mess. it's unedited (sorry in advance), and i'm avoiding studying for my finals to dish this out.</p><p>i have no excuse. just take it, i hope you enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The air is perfectly still and the axe comes down on the tree, scattering a few birds out of the branches above. The heavy thud of the blade against the wood resounds throughout the otherwise silent forest, and he lets out a sigh, pulling his axe out of the bark and going in to swing it again. Over and over, he chops at the tree, until he hears the telltale splinters of wood cracking and he steps back to allow the tree space to fall. It glides through the air, branches rustling and a heavy thump echoing throughout the forest when it hits the floor. The birds are long gone by now. Everything is quiet in the aftermath.</p><p>He takes a deep breath, wiping off the sweat on his brow with the white fabric tied around his head. He’s so glad to be living in the woods again. Life in the town was too much right now, and it was a welcome reprieve to be alone in the woods of the land, where there was no one else around to bother him. He rolls up his sleeves and readjusts the iron axe in his hand, stepping towards the fallen tree. </p><p>It takes a while to chop up enough of the bark that he’s satisfied with, but he puts the logs into a neat pile that he marks to remember to come back for later. He takes enough logs to sustain him for the next few nights and places them in his satchel, thinking that he’ll bring a wheelbarrow next time or something. There are a few things he misses about civilization, but he prefers the silence now over the conveniences of life in a broken nation.</p><p>The sun starts to set in the distant sky, and Sapnap decides that it’s time to go home. Lifting the axe to rest on the shoulder not carrying the logs, he lights a torch and sets it down by the pile. He’ll come back tomorrow. In the meantime, he starts the trek back to his cabin. Though this area of the woods wasn’t too overpopulated with mobs during the night, Sapnap had been through enough terrifying experiences that he was pretty careful. </p><p>In the woods, it’s every man for himself. Zombies, spiders, and skeletons roamed - demons from whatever hellspawn came to the Earth’s surface at night, had been for long before Sapnap was even born. It was a facet of life to avoid going out at night - at least not without any armor, which he was conveniently not wearing any of at the moment. As he continues to walk through the trees and roots emerging from the ground, the sun continues to set. Distantly he wonders to himself what he’ll cook for dinner when he gets home. He also wonders how long he can get away with this little… “impromptu” vacation before somebody comes looking for him.</p><p>He gets lost in his thoughts easily, and barely recognizes when his eyes fall on an unfamiliar shadow out of the corner of his eye. There’s a quiet wheeze that echoes throughout the silence of the woods. Before he can think, he whips around with his axe out and poised to defend, cursing that he went out to get wood this late, and that he didn’t think of bringing his bow or any arrows with him. But the shadow doesn’t move. In fact, the shadow is a person (he thinks), and it’s leaning against the trunk of the tree, barely propped up to sit. </p><p>Sapnap advances carefully, holding his axe closer to him now, ready to kill if necessary. The person (covered in a tattered dark green cloak) wheezes slightly, with ragged breathing, tossing and turning slightly - as if they were having a nightmare. Sapnap frowns. This is weird. These woods are practically void of people. If someone had entered the woods, he would’ve known. Who is this person?</p><p>He creeps closer, and realizes that the person is a boy. He thinks. Their face is slightly hidden by the hood of the cloak, and Sapnap takes the tiniest step forward. <em> Snap </em>. </p><p>The cracked twig jerks the stranger to awareness, and Sapnap barely has time to see a flash of green eyes before the person curls in on themselves, effectively hiding themselves from Sapnap. He frowns, and slowly lowers his axe.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Sapnap calls out lowly. The stranger doesn’t say anything, but curls in on themselves more. Sapnap lowers his axe completely. “Hey. I won’t hurt you. Promise. See? I’m putting my weapon down. You better not attack me.” Slowly, he sets his axe on the ground, and the flash of green eyes return. The person covers the bottom half of their face with the cloak, only their eyes visible, and Sapnap crouches down. “Do you need help? It’s going to be dark soon. If you don’t have a weapon, you’re going to fight a losing battle.”</p><p>The stranger blinks. Sapnap tilts his head. “Do you have a name?” The stranger seems to think about it, before shrugging. Sapnap looks up, where the sky is rapidly darkening. They’re losing daylight. He doesn’t have time for this. In his bag, he pulls out a lighter and a spare torch. The stranger flinches when the spark from the lighter ignites the torch into a strong and steady flame. Sapnap stands, grabbing his axe as he goes in his other hand. “You can follow me if you want dude. At least for the night.” </p><p>And without looking back (despite wanting to), Sapnap turns around and starts to walk back towards his home. After a few minutes of walking, he wonders if the stranger ended up following him. He tries not to think about it too hard though. It’s dangerous enough to be walking with his back turned to a potential enemy, a stranger at that. He is getting soft. </p><p>He’s resolute in looking straight forward until he sees the torches on his house from a distance. He doesn’t hear anything behind him, and hopes that the stranger will be okay. He opens his fence and lets it close on its own while he makes his way to the door of the cabin. Unlocking it, he enters his home - this place that he built by himself, his home away from home. It’s cozy inside but it’s getting chilly with nightfall and he sets his torch onto a hook in the wall. He starts a fire in the fireplace with the new logs and looks up in surprise when he hears the knocks. </p><p>Three knocks. Sapnap slowly goes over to the door and opens it. </p><p>The stranger stands there, nervously fidgeting as he looks around him. The cloak is older than Sapnap can even tell, and his green eyes jerk from one thing to another. Faint groans of approaching zombies echo in the distance. The boy flinches with every creak and rustle from the surrounding darkness. Sapnap’s never seen a guy this...disjointed before. </p><p>Sue him. So what if he’s getting soft. </p><p>He doesn’t hesitate to open the door wide and let the stranger inside.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>When Sapnap sees the strangers face the next morning, bare as the cloak falls off his sleeping face on the couch, he spits out his water. </p><p>The stranger blinks awake, seemingly confused. He blearily looks at Sapnap, while Sapnap sputters. “You’re hot dude! Why would you hide a face like that?! Holy cow, you’re like a walking dream bro.” The stranger shrugs, and Sapnap notices the scar on his face, a large and ugly gash that stretches across his cheeks and bridge of the nose. If it weren’t for the morning sunlight streaming in, Sapnap might’ve not even seen it - it’s so faded, but now that he’s seen it, he can’t unsee it. Sapnap groans and turns away. “You can’t be hot AND have a sexy scar to go along with it, dammit. You’re literally going to be everybody’s daydream if you go to that stupid city. You look strangely familiar too...” Sapnaps own words have him thinking. </p><p>“Are...you from around here? Is there anyplace that you can go?”</p><p>The stranger shrugs again and Sapnap raises an eyebrow. “Can you even speak?”</p><p>“It’s been a while.” The stranger's voice suddenly surprises him and Sapnap almost takes a step back in shock. “Dude, you can talk!” The boy seems nervous. “I guess. I don’t remember speaking before…” Sapnap frowns. “Do you know how you got in the forest? Give me some answers bro, you’re a walking bag of questions.”</p><p>The stranger blinks slowly. “I…” His voice is slightly raspy, probably from underuse. “I barely remember a dream. Actually, more like a nightmare. Then I woke up and I was in the forest. You found me.”</p><p>He looks away. “Sorry. I wish I could tell you more. I really don’t remember anything else.”</p><p>Sapnap hums in interest. “Huh. That’s cool. I mean, you’re welcome to stay here if you want. If you don’t have anywhere else to go, you can hang out with me for a while. Gather your bearings, whatever. I’m chill. You haven’t tried to kill me yet, which is a pretty good sign in my book.”</p><p>That earns a slight huff (maybe a chuckle?) from the stranger and Sapnap grins a little. “My name’s Sapnap. Do you remember your name?”</p><p>The boy scrunches up his face, as if he was genuinely trying to remember. But after a moment, his face drops into a forlorn expression and he mutters, “No I don’t.”</p><p>Sapnap tries to cheer him up. “You mind if I give you a name? I give out the best names. I’ve got pets back at home, a fox and a fish. Sketchers and Mars are pretty sick.” The stranger shrugs. “You can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind.” He clears his throat, and Sapnap snaps his fingers. “Dude. You’re a walking dream. Dream! How do you like that, Dream?” </p><p>The boy tries it out. “Dream.” Sapnap nods eagerly. “Dream, dude. You’re Dream.”</p><p>“I’m Dream.” He says. “Huh. Dream.”</p><p>Sapnap grins and goes to fill up his cup with more water. “Dream suits you. And uh...since you’re here, I’ve got some logs I need to carry back to the house…”</p><p> </p><p>Dream helps carry the logs back. Sapnap notices that the other boy seems to be slightly stronger than he seems, carrying way more logs in his arms than Sapnap himself. Although he looks like he would barely be able to beat Sapnap up in a fight, Sapnap doesn’t say anything. It might be better if neither of them mentioned it.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Sapnap tries to ask Dream questions every day to try and jog his memory. Dream appreciates the effort. Appreciates Sapnap for trying. He’s a nice person, a kind person, even if he’s a little hot-headed and teasing sometimes. </p><p>They’re working in the small farm behind the cabin when Sapnap asks, “Did you have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Maybe somebody is missing you.”</p><p>Dream laughs sardonically. “Nobody would be missing this mug, I promise you that. I don’t remember anybody...like that. I remember shapes of people? If that makes sense.” He digs the hoe into the dirt and sighs, thinking about it. He barely remembers dark shadows and crowds of cheering (or screaming) people, and they were either reaching out for him or...chasing him. Nothing from his broken memory was decipherable. He almost wanted to stop trying. He feels like he’s changed - he faintly remembers being competitive, wanting to be the best at everything, to best everyone, a long long time ago. But now? Now, he’s happy to be farming carrots in a crummy little garden, regaining some strength and joking with Sapnap, <em> a friend </em>. He doesn’t want to think about anybody from before. He’s afraid that they wouldn’t take too kindly to his current self. </p><p>But when Dream thinks about it, really digs down deep, something rumbles from deep within himself. Some sort of yearning, like a gentle purr, and barely strong enough to motivate Dream to investigate this feeling any further. </p><p>“There’s nobody romantic in my life, especially before I lost my memory, so stop it.” Dream laughs at Sapnap’s pout. “But you’re literally a dream! People will throw themselves at you left and right, I’ll literally bet you 2 diamonds right now.” Dream snorts. “I bet you don’t even have diamonds right now, not with these stone hoes, are you kidding me?”</p><p>Sapnap scoffs. Dream throws him a sly glance. “What about you, Sapnapppp? Do you have a special someone?!”</p><p>Sapnap suddenly stills, and Dream is thrown off by the sudden change in demeanor. “Nah.” Sapnap turns his back to Dream, raising his hands and digging his hoe into the dirt. “I’m not really interested in settling down with anyone anytime soon.”</p><p>Dream is curious but doesn’t push it. The sun beats down on them, but the two of them continue working in relative peace and harmony, without any more potentially dangerous questions for the rest of the day.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>“I remember something.” Dream says quietly, as they’re eating breakfast one morning before tending to the chores around the cabin that day. Sapnap’s scrambled eggs fall from his fork. It’s been a week since Dream was found, and the poor guy had barely remembered anything since then. This would be good. This is a good start to recovery.</p><p>“What did you remember?” Sapnap asks curiously. Dream seems to hesitate, but then looks out the window as the gentle sunlight trickles in and brightens up the room.</p><p>“I remember these lands. I think I was born here. Everything seems familiar and yet...different.” Dream sighs, frustrated. “I was dreaming about it. About this place. I’ve been here before, but not...not the cabin. It wasn’t here. The farm wasn’t there. This was all just woods. And I walked, alone.” The boy looks even more confused as he says these words aloud and Sapnap stays quiet. “I was alone...for a really long time.” Dream just looks sad now, and Sapnap frowns. Can’t have that.</p><p>“C’mon, get ready to leave.” Dream looks up at Sapnaps sudden command. “What? Where are we going?”</p><p>“You said you know these lands, right? Let’s take a walk. Maybe we’ll be able to trigger some more memories.” Sapnap explains easily. </p><p>Dream blinks. “But there’s chores…” Sapnap barks out a laugh. “Dream, it’ll be an adventure! Let’s go!!” </p><p>And before he knows it, he’s got a backpack on his shoulder and an excitable Sapnap dragging him down a trail into the deeper and darker parts of the woods. </p><p>The two of them walk together, yet Dream doesn’t feel any memories resurface. The two of them chat idly, and then easily fall into comfortable silence. Walking through the forest doesn’t really jumpstart Dream’s memory, no matter how deep they go. He takes in the nature instead, looking around in wonder as birds sing in the distance, sheep and cows passing by him aimlessly. He even spots a few foxes hiding in berry bushes. The sun is kind today, and a gentle breeze weaves in and out of the air, comforting Dream in his cloak. Sapnap had given him new clean clothes after he realized he was practically wearing rags. But the cloak stayed on, and Dream felt self conscious about his face (despite Sapnap already seeing it), so he covered the bottom half of it with his cloak as they continued to walk deeper into the trees. </p><p>“Does any of this feel familiar to you?” Sapnap asks a little while after. The sun is dropping down from its highest point in the sky, the day stretching into the late afternoon. They’ve been walking for hours now and Dream still remembers nothing. “Not really. I mean, there’s trees. But there’s nothing concrete that I can really pinpoint.” He says sadly. Sapnap hums, and looks around, the two of them stopped for a small break. “That’s okay. Don’t push yourself. Lots of people with amnesia regain their memories slowly. There’s no rush.” </p><p>Dream freezes as he suddenly stumbles into a slight indent in the ground, and Sapnaps voice fades away. He crouches down to the floor and slowly traces the ground with his hand. Sapnap looks over his shoulder. “What are you looking at?”</p><p>“Something struck here.” Dream says slowly, eyes concentrating on the slope of the land, the slight indent that had been revitalized over time. It was a blast. Maybe from a creeper? Or maybe from something else. The impact spot was pointed, direct. Almost like somebody targeted this spot directly...from the sky.</p><p>Dream looks up. The sky is blue and endless above them. There are a few faint clouds passing by, but it looks peaceful. Yet Dream frowns slightly. There’s a slight tugging at his chest again, and he isn’t sure how to describe the emotion - to Sapnap, or even to himself. </p><p>“Dream.” Sapnap’s voice rings out, suddenly low and quiet - but urgent enough for Dream to turn around anyways. The other boy has his bow and a prepared arrow out, aimed at a creeper, peering at them from the shadows. Dream takes a single step back, watching the creeper carefully, suddenly ten times more aware of his slight movements. Even if he doesn’t remember much, he knows what this creature can do if he makes a single mistake.</p><p>“Step back. Slow.” Sapnap mutters, pulling the bow back, one eye closed as he aims. Dream listens, unsure of how he can fight back without a weapon. In a single moment, Sapnap lets the arrow fly and it pierces the creeper, which in turn lets out a horrible hiss and immediately starts to crawl towards them. “RUN!” Sapnap yells, and the two of them turn and book it. </p><p>They tear through the forest, jumping over roots and pushing themselves to run faster, despite the burning in their chests. Panic slowly rises in Dream’s chest as he looks back and curses when an entire <em> hoard </em> of creepers have emerged from the shadows, following the initial creeper as they chase after the two of them. </p><p>Dream looks around quickly, taking quick notes. Sapnap only had his bow and arrow, and Dream had a useless backpack only filled with food because Sapnap usually failed to think ahead of anything besides snacks. Looking ahead, the trees were beginning to thin and a sudden realization that they’re about to enter a clearing strikes Dream’s head. There will be an upcoming tree that he knows how to climb - and if he can get the two of them up above the damage, they might be protected if he sets off all the creepers at once. It would be a huge explosion, but it would get rid of their problem fast. He grits his teeth and looks over at Sapnap. “There’s a tree up ahead! Follow me!!” He yells, and Sapnap looks confused, but follows Dream as they race to the edge of the clearing. </p><p>As he was able to predict, the forest suddenly thins out and Sapnap gaps at the sudden hole in the earth, sunken and deep, like a blast from an explosion that was still recovering. Looking around, he realizes that he has never been this deep into the forest himself, and blindly trusts Dream as the other boy takes a sharp turn and pulls himself up a tree. Sapnap quickly follows, frantically pulling himself up as the hissing of approaching creepers gets louder and louder behind them. </p><p>“Give me your bow!” Dream yells, and Sapnap doesn’t think, shoving his bow and an arrow into Dream’s outstretched hands. He watches transfixed as Dream crawls onto a large branch that overlooks the ditch in the Earth, and the mindless creepers, with their attention on him, follow and eventually crawl into the hole. Sapnap watches with wide eyes are the creepers start to climb on top of each other, preparing to explode within reach of Dream - he almost reaches out to pull him back, but Dream slots the arrow in the bow, pulls back and his eyes seem to flash as he lets go. </p><p>The arrow pushes the closest creeper back, and Dream had timed his shot exactly right as the creeper’s skin tore as it exploded - the instant hit created a chain of explosions, the creeper triggering other creepers one after the other. The explosions were huge, and Sapnap screams Dream’s name before grabbing tightly onto the trunk of the tree and holding on for dear life in the wave of heat and wind that hits him immediately.</p><p>After a while, the dust settles down, and Sapnap slowly opens his eyes. The hole below them has been dug even deeper, a result of the chain reaction. Hanging on the tree branch, Dream is there, breathing heavily <em> but alive </em>. Sapnap blinks and then laughs. “Dude. That was incredible. How did you think of that?! You’re crazy, we could’ve died!!”</p><p>Dream still has his cloak covering half his face, but Sapnap knows he’s grinning. “Yeah, but we didn’t.”</p><p>They jump down from the tree. The ground is smoking around them and the smell of burnt grass and gundpowder infiltrate their senses. Sapnap kicks some rubble to the side as a helpful gust of wind blows past them, relieving them of the smell of smoke for a moment. “How did you even know that the tree was there? Do you remember this place?”</p><p>Dream blinks, looking at the hole, the slight wasteland he just created in front of them. Mere flashes and blurry shapes of the hole, of something else exploding here, something bigger, something stronger, trickle through his mind, but he fails to connect any of it together. “No I don’t remember it. But something in me does. I must’ve known this place well. It...being here...makes me feel angry. But I don’t know why.”</p><p>Sapnap claps a hand on his shoulder and Dream looks at the other boy, who’s smiling comfortingly at him. “Say no more. It’s been a hell of a day and we have a long journey to make back home.”</p><p>And somehow, Dream smiles at that. <em> Home </em>.</p><p>They leave the clearing, going back the way they came. Dream walks in front, but Sapnap turns around quickly to survey the damage done to the area. He looks back at Dream’s back, frowns slightly, but eventually follows after him.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about yourself.” Dream asks him. The two of them are laying on the grass in the front lawn of the cabin, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the shade of the trees. Even the wind seems to playfully bounce around in the air. Birds are singing, animals are chattering with each other. It’s such a beautiful day out, and the two of them decide to take advantage of it. Even Dream, who almost consistently wore his cloak over his face now, had let the cloth fall a little bit, freeing his face in the sun to relax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you wanna know?” Sapnap hums, a straw of wheat in his mouth. Dream thinks. He feels like the two of them are friends, but while they’re trying to piece together Dream’s life, his backstory, he barely knows anything about Sapnap himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your favorite thing about the forest?” Dream finally asks. Sapnap smiles. “The quiet. I can be a super loud person, and I like civilization and all. But I also need some time by myself, just so I can hear myself think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream blinks. “Do I bother you?” Sapnap snorts. “Dumb questions aren’t allowed Dream. You’re not even half as annoying as some of my other friends.” Dream grins. “Not yet, anyways.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap pushes him lightly and Dream snickers. The two of them settle back into another comfortable lapse of silence until Dream asks, “You don’t live here all the time, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap nods. “I built myself this place to get away from stuff. I live in a nearby village. Town?  It’s growing into a city, really. There’s these huge walls around it to protect the citizens from mobs at night, but sometimes, I think the walls are really there to prevent people from being able to leave.” He finishes darkly and Dream looks at him curiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...you’re not allowed to be out here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technically? No. But nobody really notices anyways. The power is shifting and our government is practically falling apart. The guy in charge just died recently. Lots of shit happening. Lots of shit I could care less about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t care about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap looks at Dream incredulously. “You have no idea dude. The place is a mess right now, for real. There are so many different people trying to get into power so that they can rule over everything and everyone. Once there’s a leader “elected”, I’m moving out here permanently. If the government isn’t going to help me, or protect me, why would I stay with it? I’m doing just fine out here, by myself. Except now I have you too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream smiles a little at that. “Yeah, I am here. But you said you have other friends too, right? Why would you leave them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap looks a little sheepish at that. “Well, I wouldn’t leave them. I’d tell them that I’m here, and we could visit each other. Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence falls between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you tell them that you’re here now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap looks away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream widens his eyes. “Dude. What if they think you’re dead?!” Sapnap jerks back to face Dream, a frown etched into his face, “Why the hell would I be dead, the hell are you trying to say-?!” Dream wheezes, laughing as Sapnap sputters and pushes Dream again. The green eyed boy doesn’t even care, curling in on himself. When he finally settles down, he looks at Sapnap (who is effectively pouting). “Sorry, sorry. I was joking. Obviously, you can take care of yourself. Don’t friends worry about each other though?” Sapnap’s pout deepens. “Stop guilt tripping me. They’re probably going to find me in a few days anyways. I’m fairly certain Bad has followed me out here before. They’re just giving me space, but then they’ll be here to drag me back to the shithole that is our...nation, or whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a name for it?” Dream tilts his head curiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap shrugs. “Used to be one thing, changed to another. Everytime we get a new leader, we get a new identity. I don’t know. My home is pretty old, and probably the closest thing to civilization for miles and miles around. I just call it the City. Easier to describe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream hums curiously. Sapnap slowly looks at him though. “You know what. We should go.” Dream blinks. “What? I thought you wanted to get away from there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap shakes his head and throws the stalk of wheat to the side. “No, Dream, we need to go! For you! It’s got libraries, and my friend Bad, he keeps a history of things that happen in the City and in the areas around it! We might be able to find something and trigger your memory! What if you’re from the same town as me, and we haven’t even realized it this entire time?!” Sapnap’s eagerness and conviction in his voice seems to stir something in Dream. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. Books were probably more reliable than just walking through the forest based on a feeling, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Dream slowly agrees. “Sure. You’re right. Maybe I’ll be able to remember something when I get there. From what you’re saying, this place seems to be very...interesting, to say the least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I wasn’t joking when I said it was one of the oldest places around. It’s literally survived famines, plagues, even the Terrible Storm.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like a bucket of ice cold water, Dream freezes. His friend's words echo around his head like a ghostly mantra, a whisper coyly pushing him closer and closer to something locked within himself. “The...the what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap widens his eyes. “Ohhh. I guess you don’t know. Or don’t remember. It happened like, a while ago, when I was a baby. I learned this stuff from my family and from history books. So basically there’s a legend that this entire land used to be ruled by a guardian. And this guardian was basically a god. They said he could fly, he was strong, and he was super wise. His purpose was to cultivate life on the land, and to look after those who couldn’t help themselves. For a long time, there was peace, until the god became...bored. Or something. Nobody really knows why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap continues, but Dream’s heart seems to pound faster, for some strange reason. “He turned into a nightmare. Almost everything died, it was always dark outside, and he abused his powers to create chaos. It was hell. Anybody who maybe lived through it is old now, and don’t really like talking about it. There was a lot of loss.” Sapnap shakes his head. “It gets even crazier though. Because out of the darkness, something insane grew. There was a warrior, a pig warrior, only just barely human. But he was a legend in his own right. He was one of the strongest warriors in the lands, and the only one to ever challenge the god to a fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instantly, a flash of pink, the smell of burning wood, stab through Dream’s mind, but it only serves to confuse him more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This warrior, they called him the Blade. He was actually insane, sociopathic, some claimed. He didn’t want to fight the god to help anyone else - he just did it because he wanted to win. Regardless, it was storming when they met on the battlefield. Nobody really saw it, but the storm was terrible that day - hence the name. The thunder was louder than anyone had ever heard. And there are rumors, that each player was able to use the lightning as weapons in their very own hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unconsciously, Dream grips his hands into tight fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After five days of nonstop battle and thunderstorms, the Blade finally defeated the god, and killed him with an incredible show of strength. But the final blow, dealt by lightning, literally killed both of them. The storm ended, and neither was found. Without a god, the land learned to recover on its own, growing by itself and my village was finally able to bounce back. They built the walls, in case another god tried to hurt us again. Although honestly, if another god shows up, I don’t think walls will help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that real?” Dream asks breathlessly. “The story?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap grins. “Who knows. In reality though, the Terrible Storm flooded all the crops and the harvest suffered that year. I don’t remember much, but my family struggled to get food for a while. It really was just an unnatural event, five straight days of intense thunderstorms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They never found the bodies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing was out there in the first place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So there was no god?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There used to be a god, but I don’t know if the battle during the Terrible Storm was real or not. Personally, I think it’s a cool story and I like to believe that it’s real. I lived through that shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream frowns. Something uncomfortable pulls at his chest again. Sapnap looks at him, perplexed. “Do you like stories like that Dream?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure.” Dream starts slowly, carefully. His heart is beating fast. He’s not sure of what he’s saying. “That sounds like more of a myth than a story. Like a warning to people in authority. Don’t become too greedy. Don’t fly too close to the sun.” Dream frowns. “But I don’t understand. In the story, why would the god turn into a nightmare? You really think he was just bored? I feel like something must’ve happened. Maybe something hurt him. I don’t think people act without reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a person. A god. Unlimited power. A completely overpowered being, with gifts from the universe. Gods don’t need to have a reason to do the things they do.” Sapnap says easily, and suddenly Dream feels exhausted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess.” He says slowly. Dream squints against the sunlight. Instead of the warmth he relished in before, the sun seemed to be scorching his skin now. The tugging at his chest spreads, and Dream faintly thinks that he might be drowning underneath some unexplainable emotion and unspeakable remembrance of the past.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>The night before they’re supposed to leave the cabin and return to Sapnaps real home, Dream sleeps fitfully on the couch. Moonlight streams through the window, barely illuminating the dark room, and he tosses and turns, muttering quiet nothings under his breath.</p><p>
  <em> The woods are familiar to him because the woods are his. He owns this land, he could crush everything in the palm of his hands if he wanted to - but he won’t. Because there are people relying on him. He won’t hurt innocent people. He won’t hurt anybody. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A clap of thunder jerks him out of his reverie. All of a sudden, he’s in the middle of a rainstorm, but the rain is frozen, stopped halfway on their fall to the Earth. He holds his hand up delicately, gently nudging a single raindrop to the side.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He turns around. Suddenly he’s standing by a river. The water is running downstream. Across the river, a black cat perches by the bank, yellow eyes staring into his soul. He stares back. He never backs down from a challenge. The cat meows, and walks upstream. But a distant boom rumbles in the downstream direction, and the ground shakes. He looks upstream and downstream, torn. The cat seems to be waiting for him, meowing more urgently this time. But he has to see what happened. What if somebody was hurt? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> So he runs downstream, following the river. Unbeknownst to him, the cat shakes its head in disappointment.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He runs, runs so fast that his lungs burn. His cloak flies out behind him, like a dark shadow, and he pushes forward, no matter how much he struggles to breathe. Finally, the river seems to expand, and he realizes how large the river has become. Looking up, the rainstorm has started again and the droplets hit the ground like harsh bullets and he winces with every splash on his neck.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tugging his hood up and covering his face, he finally follows the river to its end - a great big waterfall, so deep and far that he can’t see the bottom. He almost falls off, his adrenaline pushing him to his limits, but he scrambles back at the last minute.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Thunder claps and lightning strikes, and he turns around, panicked.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A figure stands behind him, glowing softly. He blinks, confused. He wasn’t expecting something...soft to be in this….whatever it was.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The figure is wearing a cloak too, and their face is hooded, although he can see a slight glint where their eyes would be. Suddenly, he feels calm, and wonders if this stranger has anything to do with it. Thunder claps again, but this time, he’s not afraid. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You won’t hurt me.” The stranger's voice is weird. Foreign. But familiar all the same. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He finds himself speaking without realizing what he’s really saying. “Step away. Hide.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The stranger takes a step forward. “I know what you’re going through. Let me help you.” He shakes his head. Didn’t the stranger understand? The Terrible Storm is because of him. Everything that has happened is because of him. If the stranger stays here any longer, they’re going to die- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Too late. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A bigger, darker, stronger shadow jumps in front of the stranger, and all he can see is a pig's face and a manic smile, something that transcends logic, reason, and evil. The pig lunges forward and he thinks that this is it - but the stranger leaps in, somehow deflecting the pigs glittering netherite sword. The pig sneers, but he takes the momentary distraction.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He pushes the stranger out of the way as he jumps towards the pig, snarling as if he were a wild animal himself, his glowing axe nearly shattering the cracked sword that the pig barely manages to get up in time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A strangled shout behind him catches his attention, and as if time had stopped, he turns around - just in time to see the stranger fall off the edge of the waterfall. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His eyes widen and he turns to reach out to save him, to dive after him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But the pig chants under his breath, points the trident, and the lightning sparks above them and takes aim. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Bullseye.  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Dream wakes up in a cold sweat. </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Sapnap thankfully doesn’t comment on the dark circles under his eyes in the morning. They merely clean up the cabin, and get ready to leave. The dark haired boy explains that he travels to the cabin from the village by foot, making it easier to get away with sneaking in and out. Before they leave for good, Sapnap slings his bow across his back, and hands an iron sword to Dream with a harness. He shrugs at Dreams questioning look. “It never hurts to be prepared.” With a backpack on his back and a sword by his side, Dream follows Sapnap as they make their way through the forest, and the trees slowly thin out as they get closer to civilization the more the sun sets in the sky. </p><p>“It basically takes an entire day to get from one place to the other.” Sapnap explains. “So hopefully it’ll be dark by the time we get to the village, and it’ll be easy to sneak in through the walls.” Dream nods, and notices that today is windy, and his cloak keeps flapping about his face. Sapnap peers over at him. “Are you going to cover your face when we get into town?”</p><p>Dream shrugs. “Probably. If it keeps being this windy though, I don’t think my cloak will cover it properly. Sapnap brings his back around and starts rummaging through it, before pulling out a hair-tie and handing it to Dream. Dream kind of looks at him helplessly and Sapnap snickers. “This won’t be a permanent thing, but we can make it stay on for now.”</p><p>They make it work. For now, the cloak effectively covers the bottom half of Dream’s face. Sapnap hesitates but asks anyway. “Why are you covering it? You’re not ugly.”</p><p>Dream looks away. “I don’t like the scar. I don’t like anything about it. Drop it, please?”</p><p>Sapnap holds up his hands in surrender, and they keep moving, pushing the topic away.</p><p>Their endurance holds, but they’re slightly out of breath after practically hiking a hill as the sun starts to set in hues of purple and pink across the sky. Sapnaps excited whoop draws Dream’s attention to what lays beyond the hill. </p><p>The “town” Sapnap came from? Much bigger than a city. It was almost as big as an entire nation, and Dream could see hundreds, maybe even thousands of lights coming from lanterns and torches that were being lit. He exhales in awe, eyes wide as he takes the great nation.</p><p>Sapnap grins at Dream’s dumbfounded expression. He seems oddly proud. “It’s not a bad place to call home, really.” He slings an arm around Dream, and the two of them stand on the hill, watching the sun set and watching the nation glow in the approaching darkness. Then suddenly, Sapnap pulls back, punches Dream slightly and takes off running down the hill. “I’ll race you!! Last one there is a stupid idiot!” He yells out and Dream laughs, eyes glinting in favor of the challenge, taking after the other boy, the two of them cheering and whooping as they head towards the golden light.</p><p>Sneaking in through the walls of the city is pretty easy. There’s an unlocked entrance that Sapnap shows him immediately. Dream cackles, calling Sapnap a criminal - the other boy whacks him in response. Dream is unsure of what to expect, but the entrance leads them into some alleyways between cobble and dark oak buildings. Sapnap leads the way, sure of his path as he weaves through different twists and turns, and Dream looks around in interest. He can hear cheering and the chatter of a crowd getting closer and closer, and suddenly Dream starts to feel...nervous. He tugs at his cloak self-consciously. Sapnap turns to him, and smiles reassuringly. “I think there might be a festival going on or something. The last guy in charge made up like, a ton of different holidays as excuses to party, so people are probably celebrating something for no reason. My place is at the other edge of the city, so we’ll get there faster if we cut through the middle. Are you going to be okay?” Sapnap slows down as they pass by some unattended vendors, maybe a day market that was closed early for the festival. He frowns at Dream’s eyes, looking back and forth and all around them. “Don’t be nervous. Just stay close to me.” </p><p>Dream doesn’t really seem reassured, and Sapnap looks around. Once they cross the bridge into the main part of the city, the festival would be really crowded. The area that they were standing in now was currently deserted, and a flash of white suddenly catches Sapnap’s attention out of the corner of his eye. He goes over to an unattended cart, full of toys and playful masks. He takes a simple circular white mask, made of white clay, with a simple smiley face painted on the front. Sapnap goes over to Dream and hands it to him.</p><p>Dream stares at it, but after a moment, takes it and slowly pulls his cloak down. Turning away, he pulls the mask over his face, and turns back to Sapnap, the smiley face glowing at him in the dim light. After a moment of silence, Sapnap bursts into cackles. Dream defleates. “I feel like you could’ve given me something more threatening.” He says flatly and Sapnap snorts. “Then you would’ve attracted even more attention. C’mon, let’s just go!” </p><p>The two of them cross the bridge, and it almost feels like they’re stepping into an entirely different world. “Woah.” Dream can’t help but exhale. He’s not the only one wearing a mask - it almost seems like <em> everyone </em> is. The festival seems to be in full swings, and colorful lanterns in all shapes and sizes adorn the walls and are strung across alleyways. Delicious cooked meat and other sweet snacks seem to waft through the air, ever so enticing and alluring. Dream thinks he might be salivating, and realizes that Sapnap literally is drooling as they keep walking. </p><p>Children with masks on, some without, run past them, cheering and yelling as they chase each other with wooden toy swords. Some even wield toy bow and arrows while others gleefully swing around axes. “This might be the Festival of the Hunt.” Sapnap muses, eyes drawn to a stall with steaming bun-looking dumpling things. “Is that why all their masks are of animals?” Dream asks, noting how some masks are depictions of animals, while others are of humans. “Guess so. The last leader was kind of kooky. Believed in weird shit, like the balance between predator and prey. I see a lot of people drinking though, so I don’t think most people really care why this festival exists.” </p><p>Dream hums in interest, watching as a group of young men laugh and push each other in amusement. Some girls pass by, one even winking at Sapnap (who totally misses it as he is more interested in a kebab stand). Dream rolls his eyes, and grabs Sapnaps wrist. “Can’t we eat later? I’m pretty tired.” Sapnap sighs dramatically. “Alright fine, lazy. Thankfully, most festivals take the entire weekend, so we can explore this more tomorrow.”</p><p>The two of them keep moving, weaving in and out of the crowd, thankfully with no more distractions or interuptions. Dream continues to take in the city around him in slight wonder and awe though. How so many people could live in such a crowded and busy place, in a concrete jungle of cramped proportions….nothing at all like the forest that Dream felt the most familiar with. The concept slipped beyond his understanding. They pass by several buildings, even a cozy wooden building with blooming flowers inside that Dream takes notice of with interest.</p><p>But eventually they make it out of the most crowded part of the city, crossing another bridge into a more subdued and noticeably nicer area. Dream eyes Sapnap wearily, who seems more and more dejected as they venture further in the area. “Dude, are you rich?” Dream murmurs only loud enough for Sapnap to hear and frown deeply at. He doesn’t answer, and Dream continues to follow him all the way to the front door of a large building with a roof shaped into a dome, made of dark wood and oak. Sapnap doesn’t open the door like Dream expects him to, but knocks heavily three times instead. Dream widens his eyes. “What are you doing?” He hisses but Sapnap shushes him. He knocks again, louder this time and Dream looks around, trying to see if anyone is even around. </p><p>And then before he knows it, Sapnap is reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pin - Dream drops his jaw. “No. We are not breaking into some strange building. We can just find another place to stay, Sap-nap!!” Quickly, the black haired boy unlocks the door, and drags Dream inside, shutting it quickly and locking it up again from inside. </p><p>The inside of the building is dark. Slowly, as his eyes adjust to the light, Dream realizes that there are shelves surrounding them in a circle. Sapnap quickly lights a torch and holds it out for Dream to hold. “I…” He hesitates. “I need to show you something. Before we go to my place. It’s important.” </p><p>Dream shakes his head, but grabs the torch anyways. “Sapnap, I don’t want to get in trouble for breaking into a building.” The other boy rolls his eyes and grabs Dreams unattended wrist, pulling him towards the back of the building, past rows and rows of shelves filled with books, scrolls, whatever else. </p><p>“You need to see this.” Sapnap says determinedly, and Dream sighs. “Where even are we?” The torch just barely illuminates the few feet in front of them, and Sapnap finally starts to slow down. “We’re in my friends library. You know, I thought you looked really familiar the first time I saw you. But now the more that I think about it, the more that it’s just uncanny. You really need to see this.”</p><p>But before Dream can even ask what he needs to see - three unanimous battle cries ring out from behind them and above them, and Dream barely has time to pull out his sword on instinct to deflect a blade that swings down on him. </p><p>A strange man with a black hood and expressive eyes seem to stare right back at him, and Dream pushes him off. As the hooded man stumbles back, another man - creature - with cat ears sticking out of his head lunge at him from the side which Dream barely manages to move out of the way for. The cat-man breathes heavily and a boy in full diamond armor leaps down from the ceiling screaming, and Dream practically jumps back to avoid the collision. But before he even gets a break, the hooded man is coming at him again, sword poised to attack and Dream freezes up.</p><p>Sapnap’s voice is distant and frantic in the back of Dream’s mind, and for a moment, it seems as though everything moves in slow motion as Dream barely steps out of the way, the sharp blade just slightly cutting into the mask and snapping the band that holds it together. Dream’s eyes widen and in a sudden burst of fear or anger (he’s not sure which), he grips his sword with one hand, catching his falling mask with his other. </p><p>And before anyone can blink, Dream has his sword pinned to the hooded man’s throat, breathing heavily.</p><p>“BAD STOP!” Sapnap’s yell finally breaks through, and Dream shoves his sword an inch closer to the mans neck. “Dream, enough!” Sapnap yells, his panicked voice rising in volume. “What the hell are you guys doing, ambushing us like that?!”</p><p>“Why did you break into my library AGAIN?!” The hooded man whines, his voice sounding a lot more younger than what Dream was expecting. “Who even is this guy anyways Sapnap? Why are you bringing strangers into here?!”</p><p>The other two assailants seem to back down for now, and they slowly start to light torches in the room, yet Dream doesn’t seem to calm down. Every nerve in his body seems to be on fire, and there’s something burning within his skin, something itching to be paid attention to. Sapnap is talking and the hooded man is whining, and other voices are entering Dream’s head - too many voices than he could handle at once. </p><p>But then he sees it. A tall portrait hangs on the wall behind the hooded man, and Dream slowly loses his focus on the man as his eyes travel upwards. He recognizes that cloak. He’s wearing it right now. The picture depicts a young man with blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and a smile that looked like it almost illuminated the room with its own brilliance.</p><p>What...the hell.</p><p>Why was he in a painting, in this library, in this city? </p><p>Confused, he slowly lowers his sword and the hooded man darts away, carefully holding his own sword up to defend himself. But Dream’s sword slips from his hand and clatters loudly to the ground. Sapnap is suddenly silent, and when the boy in diamond armor asks “What’s going on-” the hooded man quickly covers his mouth. </p><p>Dream takes a step forward. </p><p>He’s not an idiot. </p><p>He passed by mirrors in Sapnap's cabin, and he knows that even with the scar and the short hair he dons now, the figure in the portrait is undeniably, him. </p><p>“For the few who remember what the god looked like, they were only ever able to depict one image of him on record.” Sapnap says quietly, his voice almost echoing in the sudden still silence of the room. “The god controlled these lands with his hands, and they called him the Hunter.”</p><p>Dream looks up at him with wide eyes, and Sapnap thinks that he doesn’t look confused, angry, or sad - his friend looks genuinely afraid, whether it be of Sapnap, the others who are slowly lowering their weapons, or of himself. </p><p>“I…” Dream clears his throat, and turns around. He’s holding the smiling mask in one hand, and his scarred and distraught face revealed to everyone in the room. The large portrait looms behind him, like a distorted reflection in a cracked mirror. His voice is quiet, just barely above a ghost of a whisper. “<em> I used to be a god. </em>”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. saline solution</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It starts with music. It always has, for him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oh shit here we go</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It starts with music. It always has, for him. He doesn’t remember birth, doesn’t remember a real mother or father. He only remembers the music store he was found beside, the sound of guitar strings and melody of piano keys weaving out of the door and soothing his cries. Despite his tumultuous life, music has always been the beginning for Wilbur, and has always been a reason to keep going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If not to keep playing music himself, at least to play music for someone else, someone who might need it more than him. If he could help others, maybe he would feel better about himself. Maybe he would feel less like the bad guy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Less like the piece of shit he feels right now, as he smiles gracefully enough to hide his desire to spit into the donors face. He reels himself in though, pretending to be grateful for the older man’s generous contribution to his campaign, and loses himself in another glass of champagne. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The campaign party has been going on for too long now, and it is nighttime, and there are demons crawling around outside the walls of the city. Wilbur wishes he could be out in an empty field right now with a diamond sword in his hand to stab into some unsuspecting prey, but he grins and laughs right on cue at some terrible joke another donor has made about women. The ballroom is full of people from the city, but while the lower classes dance on the lower floors, the upper class mill about on the second floor balconies, and Wilbur hates it. Wishes desperately that he could be down there, with some of his friends. He sees a glimpse of a flower paisley skirt, the faint glint of dark shades in the crowd. He based this entire campaign off of being “the common man” dammit, and here he was, doing the exact opposite of what he wanted to do - sucking face to the men and women who could own him with a single check, just trying to earn a shrivel of their respect. Wilbur’s right eye twitches in irritation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the music has been shit, quite frankly, the entire night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s about ready to call it quits on the entire thing right now. But suddenly, a familiar presence saddles up besides him, squeezing their annoying body into the circle of richies, grinning maniacally as he bellows “‘Ello fellas! How are we all doing tonight?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur quickly swipes another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and takes another swig. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dear lord help him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The donors somewhat back off, however, once they see the familiar running vice president enter the party, and a few even excuse themselves to head off before they fall victim to Tommy’s crackling personality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice is just so damn loud, Wilbur sighs internally. Tommy grins and spirals into a story about some new renovation project on his (re: their) home and Wilbur excuses himself, spotting an open door to the balcony outside. Before he can leave, Tommy glances at him for a brief second, something akin to worry flashing across his eyes before Wilbur turns away and Tommy reluctantly turns back to his resigned audience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath, he enters the balcony, relieved to find it empty of people. Wilbur takes a moment to collect himself, going over to the railing and looking out across the ever expanding city. Not only did the walls around the town protect the citizens from the dangers in nighttime, but the numerous torches and lanterns lit in soft warm tones illuminated the village like stars that had fallen to Earth. Wilbur closes his eyes and lets the rest of the world fade away, breathing in the still air, reveling in the quiet. He stands on the balcony for who knows how long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A presence comes up from behind him, oddly quiet. Wilbur cracks an eye open and takes another sip from his glass. Tommy looks uncharacteristically serious as he stands next to Wilbur, looking out at the same city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to win.” Tommy says. Wilbur sighs. “We will do our best Tommy. All of the other running elects don’t have the support of the common people, but they have much more resources than we do. You and I, we’ve just got our hopes and dreams in a bottle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy huffs. “We’ve got a plan, we have the votes! This place will be ours on the eve of the new season, and we’ll finally be able to right the wrongs of the past.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur stiffens. “He did his best, Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy shakes his head, oblivious to Wilbur’s crestfallen expression. “No, he became an arsehole. And then he became a dictator. And he died thanks to his gluttony-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not disrespect the dead, Tommy.” Wilbur cuts in sharply, throwing him a dirty look. “Before he was any sort of leader, he was my friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy squints at him, lips pursed in a thin line. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Was</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur turns away, expression dark. “If you’re going to be annoying, I suggest you go bother someone else. Please don’t scare away anymore potential donors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m awesome. I’ll bring in more resources, just you watch.” Tommy is about to head back into the party when he hesitates, looking back at the expanse of the town at night. “Wilbur....are you alright? You’ll have to come back in at some point to say goodbye. The party’s almost over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brown curls fall in front of his eyes, and he brushes them to the side. “I’m fine. I’ll only be out here for a few more minutes. I’m just mapping out the stars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nods and turns around before stopping again. After a moment of hesitation, he quickly says “I’m sure he’s mapping out the stars too.” With that, he quickly goes back into the party, not sticking around to see Wilbur’s frozen expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Faint flashes of a memory, of living in the forest and looking at the stars together - mapping them out, to always find a path back home-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur blinks it away. The past is in the past. He finishes his drink, looks up at the stars one more time, and then finally turns to go back inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rapid fire knocking brings Wilbur out of his sleep, away from his wispy dreams. He groans, rolling over in his bed and opening his eyes to see a shadow underneath the door. Glancing over at the other bed in the small house, Tommy snores, drool slipping onto his pillow like the child that he still was. Wilbur rolls his eyes and gets up to answer the door. Tommy could sleep through anything, always could since he was young.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur could care less how he looks right now, because he has a faint idea of only one person who could be coming to his house this early in the morning, and he swings open the door with a slight scowl on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy grins at him, hand midair of knocking. “Good morning dad! Are you ready to start the day?!” In the bright morning sunlight, the boy with his exposed fox ears on his head grins at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur sighs and opens the door wider, allowing Fundy to come inside. The younger man bounds into the house, immediately going towards chests and opening them, pulling out the supplies to make breakfast. “You’ve gotta stop calling me that.” He mutters, searching for a mug to start brewing coffee into. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, dad?” Fundy laughs. “C’mon it’s just a joke Wilbur! Besides, it’s good press to have everyone thinking of you as the father figure. It helps your image - common man, patron of the arts, heart of gold, and a respectable father figure. It looks and sounds perfect.” Wilbur sighs. “I’m not perfect though. I’m...Fundy, you know I appreciate your help with planning and running the campaign, seriously. You’re a great manager, and lord knows you think I’m much greater than I actually am. But, I’m starting to have doubts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy suddenly slows down in his movements and looks at Wilbur in confusion, ears tilting slightly. “What do you mean Will?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older man sighs and slumps down in a chair at the table, leaving his mug empty on the counter. He was too tired for coffee. For Fundy. For anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to run a nation. This place is...haunted. We’re tearing ourselves apart, and I don’t know if I’m the right one to bring everyone back together-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Fundy says, determined, coming over and placing his hands on Wilburs shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. “Wilbur Soot, you’re an inspiration. To me, to Tommy, to every common person in this entire city. For us, you are a beacon of hope that pushes us to unite as a whole. This election is important, because unlike everyone else running, you are a genuinely kind and good person. We need you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur eyes are downcast, but he finally looks up and gives Fundy a small smile. “I suppose it helps having a number one fan to cheer me on. Thank you Fundy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young man beams, but a loud snore completely ruins the moment and the two men slowly look over at Tommy as he grumbles and slowly comes to awareness. After a moment of blinking slowly, Tommy jumps back in surprise. “What the hell are you doing in our house Fundy?!” He shrieks and Wilbur sighs, wishing that he had gone for coffee after all. Fundy goes back to preparing breakfast. “It’s time to rise and grind boys. We’ve got to prepare for the rally on Friday, then you’ve got to practice your speech, and get ready for the debate next week. Elects are dropping every day, because people are realizing that there’s no point in running against someone who is </span>
  <em>
    <span>guaranteed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to win!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur cringes slightly. “I wouldn’t say I’m guaranteed to win. I’m just going to do my best-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will, you’re going to win. We’ll make sure of it.” Tommy cuts in, fumbling around to grab some clothes and heads into the bathroom. Before he shuts the door, he stubs his toe in the frame, and curses, glaring at Fundy. “Fundy, if we’re going to be President and Vice President, can we at least move into a bigger damn house?! The more I try to renovate this place, the more shot it gets. We won’t be able to make a profit off it once we move into the President’s place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy sets a plate with potatoes and eggs, a commoners breakfast and Wilbur smiles at him gratefully. “Shut up Tommy! In order to show solidarity with the common majority of the City, you’ve got to live like the people!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not very happy with the solidarity I have to share with Wilbur Singing in the shower Soot!!” Tommy screams back from behind the door, and Fundy throws up his hands in exasperation. “He literally has an on and off switch. There’s no other way to explain the gremlin.” Wilbur snorts and Fundy grins at him. “Will, trust me, you’re going to do great. Get ready and we’ll go prepare for the rally. I know things can be a little overwhelming at times, but take it day by day. I think this rally is really going to help boost your self confidence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s Friday, the day of the rally, and he doesn’t feel self confident at all. Even after the morning pep talk from Fundy, and another round of “encouragement” from Tommy, Wilbur is sweating. It feels too warm for his coat, and he just takes it off nervously, dropping it to the side and rolling up the sleeves of his white blouse. The small green room behind the stage where the rally is taking place is suffocating, and Wilbur jerkily sits down at the vanity mirror, noting the faint dark circles under his eyes. He sighs and swallows, brushing his brown curls to the side. His hair is getting long, he thinks faintly to himself. His hair always grew the fastest, and was often better left to its own devices rather than styling it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The green room door opens, and Wilbur sees Tommy’s reflection in the mirror. “Why are you staring at your own face?” Tommy snorts, and Wilbur rolls his eyes, standing up. “Is it time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nods. “It’s time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur looks at his discarded coat, and chooses to leave it behind. As he straightens up, he takes a deep breath, and walks past Tommy, who murmurs, “Good luck.” Wilbur barely hears it over the roaring of a nearby crowd and the increasing white noise in his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stay strong stay strong stay strong - you need them to like you, you need them to love you. Be everything for them, help them, do it for the people.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s always needed, craved attention. From his first days in the city as a musician, begging for money on the streets to support him and Tommy, to this very moment - he’s done it all for the music. For something bigger than himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps out onto the stage, and the cheers rise exponentially in volume. Lights seem to blind Wilbur’s vision and the entire crowd around the elevated stage swarm his field of view. The people are there for him, smiling and cheering for him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They want him to be their leader</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy is standing to the side, smiling kindly at him and handing him the microphone. Wilbur takes it gratefully, and faces the music. A symphony grows in his heart, warm and spilling into his soul, and he smiles, something wide and brilliant and beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello everyone.” He says, and the crowd roars. He didn’t even know that this many people lived within the city walls. “It is a great honor to be here today. I want to reiterate how grateful I am to you, and this city. This city without a name - I promise to bring peace, hope, prosperity to a place that deserves the best for everyone!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cheers grow louder. In the distance, a few donors stand in their balconies of their fancy townhouses, watching with unreadable faces. Fundy looks on at Wilbur from behind the stage with Tommy, reading the script Wilbur is speaking perfectly from memory. Tommy is watching with admiration on his face, his guard down and his true feelings finally showing through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Citizens, I will unite everyone for the better. We will have a name again, we will become a people again. Every single one of you is important, and I’m tired of seeing the majority falling under a crippling rule of rich people who look down on us, spit on us, push us down until we can’t see a future anymore.” Wilbur grins, blown away by the growing approval of the crowd. However, Tommy widens his eyes and Fundy is flipping through the pages rapidly - before looking at Tommy and hissing “He’s going off script.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My people! The past is in the past, and we must look towards the future. We need to make our own paths, and realize that together, we are in charge of our own stories and our own lives. I am you - believe me.” His voice softens and the audience quiets down so Wilbur’s words can wash over the crowd. “I was born here, abandoned and an orphan. I barely had a childhood, and for years, I was on the streets, fighting for a chance to survive. How many times did I beg for opportunity, for a chance to prove myself to these rich bastards-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy groans. “Nononono. He needs to stop! We’re going to lose the donors!” Tommy is quick to find the few donors watching in the distance, now turning away from the rally with dark looks on their faces. He curses. “Fundy, what the hell is he doing? This wasn’t what we agreed on.” Fundy shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know why he’s saying these things. He’s stressed, he’s letting his emotions get the best of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy suddenly goes slack. “Not his emotions. His blasted need for attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crowd is cheering Wilbur on, spurred by his words against the rich minority of the city. All the people who held many resources close to their hearts, never wanting to share, always remaining in power, even from the shadows - the hatred against them suddenly starts to shine through the cracks. “We’ll put an end to all of it!! This truly will become a place of equality, of power to the individual, to us all! We will share, we will be joyous, and everything will change. That’s how I’m here right now - even though they looked down on me, I worked harder. I worked and worked until I climbed my way to this stage, to you right now. I’m here. I am your vessel, and I will always do this for you, the people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The roars of approval are deafening, and Tommy puts his face in his hands. “This is not good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rally is finished some time later, and Wilbur, tired but grinning like a Cheshire cat, bounds down towards Fundy and Tommy who are watching him with apprehensive expressions. “I think that went rather well!” Wilbur says happily, and Fundy sighs. “Why did you go off script Wilbur? What happened out there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean? The crowd loved it, I think they were super happy!” Tommy shakes his head while Fundy finds himself staring at an approaching man. “Not everyone was happy with you Wilbur.” Tommy says, right before the man steps in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Evening gentlemen.” The man says cordially, yet an air of tension suddenly seems to wash over the four of them. The noise of the crowds seem to fade away as Fundy nods politely, Tommy scoffs, and Wilbur smiles (albeit confused) at Punz. “Hello Punz. What are you doing here?” The man sighs deeply, crossing his arms in his white hoodie, golden chain glinting in the light. “That was a real interesting speech you had out there Wilbur.” He says nonchalantly, almost conversationally. “It’s almost like you’re antagonizing a specific group of people who, mind you, still live in this city, no matter what their economic status may be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur widens his eyes. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, especially not to you Punz.” Punz scoffs. “All I heard out there was disrespect man. I know you’ve got beef with the older people and their greed, but I worked hard too. That’s why I have the most land out of everyone here, that’s why I am one of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>richest</span>
  </em>
  <span> people here. But being rich doesn’t make me an asshole. And you growing up in the streets? Doesn’t make you a saint. I grew up in the streets too.” The blonde man shakes his head in disappointment. “When you said you’d bring equality to this place, I guess that doesn’t mean for everybody. I believe in justice for all. Forget my support, if all you’re not really going to change anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait. Punz.” Tommy starts and Punz holds out a hand. “Don’t even get me started Tommy.” He almost bites out, and glares at Fundy (who glares back), and stalks off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of them watch Punz, their biggest supporter and a potential ally, leave them behind. Tommy curses under his breath and Fundy groans in frustration. Wilbur blinks, the cogs in his brain slowly turning. Before Fundy can even open his mouth to say anything, Wilbur pushes past him and walks away, eyes wide and uncomprehending. Fundy growls and starts after him, but Tommy holds him back. “Let him go.” Tommy sighs. “Needs some time for himself. We’ll figure this out. I’ll stab that damn two-faced bitch myself if I have to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy tears himself away from Tommy’s grip. “We need to fix this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy levels Fundy with a shit-eating grin. “Oh, we will. Whatever it takes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur gets lost in his head easily. He wonders what it would be like to float outside your own body, or to have an out-of-body experience. That’s what his daydreaming feels like, something otherworldly and dreamy. In his thoughts, words flying at rapid fire throughout his brain, he conducts his mind and his heart through it all, a conductor for his own little symphony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so he wanders, aimlessly throughout the city. He thinks about the past, worries about the future, loses himself in an unknown song that only he knows the lyrics to. He walks as if he knows that people are watching him always, and yet, can’t bring himself to care about appearances or personas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has such a hard time retaining control of himself already - it would do nothing but destroy him if he let go of his sanity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur walks through the streets, forgets eating and finds himself walking through the city even as the sun sets, the night deepens, and finally everyone and everything seems to fall asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes the time to think really hard about what he’s doing. How can he, a normal guy with no political experience, who just wanted to be a musician when he grew up, be a good leader for everybody? Wilbur wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of much, for a long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he knows it, his mindless movements bring him directly to the graveyard, close to the farthest point in the city boundaries away from civilization. He looks at the iron gates, before stepping inside and taking a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air in the graveyard is cool, a relief on his warm skin from walking for so long. The darkness does little to illuminate the place, and nobody bothered to set up lanterns this far away from everything else. The moonlight, instead, seemed to guide him to a spot that he knew well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was one of the few who actually bothered to come to the funeral, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt’s tombstone stands, simple in presentation, quite the opposite to how Schlatt found himself living in his actual life. But Wilbur doesn’t think about Schlatt with power, scrunching his face in discomfort. He prefers to remember his old friend in their youth, when they cared a little more about trivial things like jokes with no punchline, trying to escape and chase each other around the walls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur sits down, cross legged in front of the grave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had only been a few months ago. The two of them had changed from their younger adult years, and went on diverging paths. The two of them had not talked for almost an entire year. And now Wilbur never will be able to talk to him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers that they used to fight a lot, because Schlatt brought out a feisty and wild side of him that he tried to hide for so long. The other guy taught him to not hide. And now, he was going against everything Schlatt had ever advised him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For how shit of a leader he was, Schlatt gave the best advice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur misses him. He sighs and rubs his eyes, wishing he had a drink right now. He would’ve made a toast to Schlatt, the old one, and to the good old days. He closes his eyes. Those days when Schlatt ran away from his oblivious wealthy parents in favor of roughhousing with Wilbur in the dirt. Those days when even Tommy wanted to be like Schlatt, jumping on his back and screaming about wanting to learn business from the businessman. The old memories resurface, faded and yellowed from age and disuse, but Wilbur cherishes them, smiling to himself all the same. When he opens his eyes again, a man with long hair, an unkempt beard, and two great big horns are staring right into his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur blinks. Closes his eyes slowly. Opens them again, and the image is gone. Disappeared. Almost as if Wilbur was imagining seeing the ghost of his dead friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur gulps. Ghosts aren’t real. He scrambles to stand, and looks at Schlatt’s grave nervously one more time - before turning and booking it hurriedly back home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man watches him from behind the iron gates as Wilbur heads back to the living population in the dark. Takes another swig from a bottle, but when he realizes it’s empty, tosses it to the side. He sighs, eyes lazily watching his old friend one more time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s several days later when Tommy has had enough of Wilbur’s moping, and confronts him in their crummy little house in the late hours of the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur groans in frustration and almost pushes the table over and Tommy pushes it back down. “What the hell is wrong with you man? I’m just telling you that I think you need to go talk to Punz, and explain to him that you don’t care if he’s the richest man on this server - we’ll fucking win the election with or without him anyways!!” Wilbur turns on Tommy with a flash of annoyance. “Are you joking Tommy? Instead of just losing his support, I’d make an enemy out of one of the most powerful people in this entire city! You’re just an idiot, with horrible ideas-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I DON’T SEE YOU TRYING TO FIX ANYTHING!” Tommy bursts out, face red with anger. “You’re so ANNOYING! You just whine when people don’t like you, you get so affected by what everyone else thinks of you!! For once, can you just think of YOURSELF!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the difference between you and I, Tommy - you’re SELFISH, and I’m not!” Wilbur spits out and Tommy nearly snarls. “Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> call me selfish, when I’m the only one who has been by your side this entire time. I am your right hand man, and if you keep shutting me - or anybody else - out, we will lose. The only way we win, is for you to stay true to what YOU want. If you show to Punz that you’re the right man for the presidency, and that you’re meant for this role, even without his help, then he will come to realize that he only benefits from supporting you now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur deflates, shaking his head. “I’m not, Tommy.” He says quietly. Tommy blinks in surprise. “I’m not meant for this.” Wilbur continues. “I...I don’t think I can do this. I can’t help people, Tommy. I will only bring this city to ruin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s expression becomes distraught. “No. No no, Wilbur, stop. I’m sorry. I apologize, okay?” The younger boy comes over to Wilbur and stands in front of him, biting his lip. “You can do this. Isn’t this what you’ve wanted for a long time? To help others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur shrugs halfheartedly. “I don’t know anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy is quiet for a moment, before reaching in his shirt and pulling out the necklace he always wore. Wilbur widens his eyes when Tommy pulls it out - they never wear it publicly, although Wilbur assumed that Tommy had it with him at all times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a simple black cord, and a simple wooden carving of a sword dangled in Tommy’s hand. “You know the old man knew us long before we knew ourselves.” He says quietly. Wilbur slowly reaches at his collar and pulls out his own necklace, with a wooden carving of a star. “And it doesn’t matter why they left us, doesn’t matter why we will never see them again. The only thing that matters about them, is that the old man knew you were meant to be a star. I got a sword, because I know to do the right thing, even if it’s the hard thing. And you know that other bastard got a crown because all he ever wanted was power.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur looks at his necklace again, and Tommy hides his own away. “You are bringing hope to this place. Hope for a better future. You don’t leave people behind, Wilbur. Even though I’m an annoying piece of work sometimes, you’ve never left me behind.” Tommy nods at him. “And that’s a hard thing to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur huffs out a laugh, and Tommy gently punches him in the chest. “We’re a team, you and I. We’ll get through this, together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment of quiet, Wilbur says nothing, still staring at the star that he wears close to his chest. Then finally, he hides his necklace and looks Tommy in the eyes. Then, he pulls the younger man into a tight hug, a rare moment of affection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a good brother.” Wilbur whispers, voice cracking at the end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy snorts, but hugs Wilbur back, equally as tight. “You’re not so bad yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he’s not with Fundy or Tommy mapping out their political plans or writing new speeches, Wilbur finds himself talking with as many people in the city as he possibly can. In a way, Tommy is right - he does like helping people, and the best way for him to reach individual citizens is to simply get to know as many people as he can. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of his friends, Niki, owns the local bakery in the common area of the city, and one of his favorite times spent with the people is with her in her warm shop, with the savory and sweet smell of freshly baked breads and cakes surrounding him as he sits in her store. People come far and wide from the city, even people from the upper class areas, to have a taste of her famous sweets, and her store is consistently busy throughout the day. But Wilbur’s favorite part of the day is near the end, when the sun is setting and the golden glow of the falling sun filters through the windows of the bakery, creating a wonderful light that illuminates the bakery and Niki’s bright, peaceful face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snuck out of his meeting with Fundy and some donors today, finding refuge in the bakery a couple street blocks away. Even though Niki is closing up the store, when he hesitantly knocks on her door, she lets him in with a fond smile anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have a good day today Will?” She asks as he sips a cup of tea quietly by the counter. She looks good, with her blonde hair tied messily in a bun and her overalls dusted with flour. He exhales deeply, a sense of calm yet with a trickle of doubt seeping through. “Was alright. Just preparing for the debate, you know.” She hums in understanding. “The party was nice, all those weeks ago.” Niki says lightly, bustling around the bakery as she cleans the display shelves. “Wish we could’ve had a dance together or something.” Wilbur smiles ruefully. “Wish we could’ve. Sorry. Duty called. I think I saw a glimpse of your dress though. It looked nice.” She smiles at him. “Thank you! Eret helped me make it. I can’t wait to wear it again to celebrate the results of the election.” She teases and Wilbur shakes his head, laughing a little. “We don’t know if we’ll be celebrating yet.” He reminds her and she shrugs. “I have faith.” She says simply. “The people want you to succeed. We all do.” Wilbur smiles gratefully to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A slight bang in the kitchen behind the closed doors behind the counter cause the both of them to look back suddenly. For a moment, there is nothing. Then there is a very distinct “</span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>” that rings out in the silence. Wilbur snorts and takes another sip of his tea while Niki calls out, “Tubbo? Is everything alright?” Another crash and Niki shakes her head slightly. “Everything’s fine Niki!” Tubbo, Niki’s assistant calls back. “No need to come back here at all!” Niki rolls her eyes slightly. She had taken the young teen on recently to help her with the bakery’s rapidly rising popularity, but the boy worked several other jobs in addition to being a bit of a klutz. Regardless, he was sweet and good-hearted, and Niki always sent him home with more bread than he could fit in his pockets. “Alright, Tubbo, you can just go ahead and go home early then.” Niki calls out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beat of silence. Then, “Really?!” Niki laughs and even Wilbur seems amused. “Yes Tubbo. Go ahead. I’ve got some help anyways, so you’re fine. Take some time to rest.” Niki leans to whisper to Wilbur, “Poor boy has bags under his eyes. Must be staying up all night for whatever reason.” Wilbur playfully whispers back, “Then he needs to go sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure Niki?!” Tubbo pushes out from the doors of the kitchen, his face and apron absolutely covered in flour. Niki gasps at Tubbo’s appearance while Wilbur cackles. Tubbo widens his eyes when he sees Wilbur and quickly straightens up. “Hi Wilbur!” He says sheepishly, and Wilbur smirks. “Bit of an accident back there, Tubbo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo blinks. “Nothing happened. Nope. Definitely not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki closes her eyes. “Tubbo, go home and sleep. I can’t have an assistant who isn’t taking care of themselves!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo nods and takes his apron off, placing it on a hook by the doors, and waving before booking it out the door. Wilbur smiles fondly at him. He knew Tubbo because he was one of Tommy’s few friends (although Tommy never called him that) in this city. They had been friends ever since he and Tommy came to the city, but since the two of the young boys had grown into teenagers, Tommy had put his entire effort into helping Wilbur with the campaign and Tubbo had found himself working several jobs. They became busy - Wilbur knew that Tommy was exhausted, all the time, and from what Niki has told him, Tubbo is probably feeling the same way. He’s fond of Tubbo, because that boy manages to bring out the best in Tommy. So it’s natural for him to feel slightly protective over the younger. He’s glad that Niki is a good positive influence in his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to help me clean up his mess then, yeah?” Niki laughs at him, tossing him a broom. Wilbur sputters but barely manages to catch it. He sighs dramatically. “Alright, as long as it boosts my career. I do devote my life to helping the people.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He helps her - he always has, and he always will. He makes it a promise to himself. Niki is kind, a good soul that wants the best for everyone. He wants to be a leader for her, for Tubbo, for everyone else in this city. But the doubt and the worry plague his mind as he sweeps the back of the shop while Niki finishes cleaning the front. He can’t see himself uniting people when he’s unsure of himself and his abilities. He groans, closing his eyes as he thinks he must have some sort of imposters syndrome. His own fears cloud over any hope he has for himself, and he doesn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> people think he’s so great, when he barely can give himself a compliment half of the time. Can he ever live up to the ideals that everyone else has set for him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden bang brings Wilbur from his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki turns to see a man, dressed in tattered clothes with wild eyes step into the store. Instantly, a feeling of dread pools in her stomach and hesitantly, she grabs the rag in her hands tighter, nervously. “I’m so sorry, but we’re closed!” The man coughs. “Perfect. No one will be around to help.” The man pulls out a large satchel from nowhere and shoves it at Niki’s face. “Put all your money in here. Diamonds, emeralds, whatever. I want everything you have.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki’s face pales and she takes a step back. “Are you robbing me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man nods. “Yes. Put all your valuables in this bag, right now or else!” Niki’s face goes hard - she shakes her head and stands her ground. “No. Sorry, but you have to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man shakes his head, looking around nervously. “Just put the fucking money in the bag, NOW!” Niki shakes her head again, and the man pulls out a knife, and Niki freezes. Some people walking by the store outside suddenly scream and point to the man inside through the open door. “Somebody’s robbing Niki!” They scream, and dryly, Niki thinks to herself that if they really cared, they would help, instead of just stating the obvious. In the back of her mind, she knows that Wilbur’s in the back, and she can’t let him get hurt - if anything happened to the president elect, they would all be screwed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man seems exasperated at the crowd of people growing outside the store, watching carefully, some people going off to tell the city guards. He inches forward slowly, holding the knife out, ready to attack Niki at any moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, just put the knife down. We can talk about this. If you’re struggling, I can help you in other ways. You don’t have to do this.” Niki tries to reason calmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man shakes his head. “No. I have to do this - there’s no other way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them fail to notice the back door to the kitchen swing open slightly. Wilbur grunts softly, climbing on the floor to get around the counter, peeking out to see the man standing in front of the counter, the knife dangerously close in Niki’s personal space. He widens his eyes and frowns - he’s not going to let this idiot get away with hurting Niki.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sudden burst of confidence, energy, and strength, Wilbur grabs a nearby empty tray and leaps over the counter, surprising both Niki and the robber. The robber instantly swears, throwing his bag to the side and swinging the knife at Wilbur, who brings up the tray to block it. The crowd outside gasps as Wilbur continues to deflect the robber, and Wilbur grits his teeth, finally pushing the man back and causing him to lose his balance for a brief moment. Throwing the tray to the side, Wilbur lunges forward, pushing both his hands onto the man's arm, causing him to cry out and let go of the knife, and it clatters to the ground. Wilbur quickly kicks it away, overpowering the man and taking him down to the ground, twisting his arm behind his back. “Stop, stop! I’m sorry!!” The man wails, and Wilbur breathes heavily, the adrenaline rushing through his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a moment of quiet that seems to overtake Wilbur’s entire mind. He grips onto the man's restrained hands tighter, eliciting a whimper from the man under him. Then a slow clapping erupts into a roar of victory and justice that draws Wilbur to look outside the window. The people are there - the people are cheering for him. They call out their love for him, their praise for him. The adoration in their words and joyous noises fill Wilbur with a sense of accomplishment, much stronger than anything he’s ever felt before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels like he’s just finished giving a performance. In his mind, bright spotlights are on him and it’s like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. He smiles sheepishly, and the city guards (their tiny version of a police force) make their way past the crowd and into the building. Wilbur breathes heavily, nodding at the resident chief of guard - Thunder, who smirks, nodding back at him. “I’ll take it from here Wilbur.” He says, snorting at the man on the ground. “Really man? Robbing the nicest person in this damn place? You’re an idiot, hah. Maybe you can think about the consequences of your actions in prison.” Thunder pulls out handcuffs and slaps it on the man, and pulls him up. Wilbur sighs in relief. “Thanks Jack.” Thunder salutes him. “No worries big man!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s that. The thundering sound of applause still fills Wilbur’s mind, even as Jack takes the robber out of the store, and the crowd turns to booing the man. Even as Wilbur turns to Niki, asking her if she’s okay, he can’t really hear her answer, because the rush of pride that filled him lingered - the feeling was sickly sweet, dripping into the deep crevices of his soul like liquid gold. That feeling...the vocal support of the crowd...it was like a drug. That was what he craved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted more of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He needed it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s not a trace of hesitation or doubt on Wilbur’s face when he prepares to go out in front of the stage for the debate. The few opponents left in the election were either sweating or resigned - they knew they had almost zero to none hope of winning. Not when the people were chanting Wilbur’s name, their overlapping voices echoing throughout the city and filling the entire land with glorious sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The support for Wilbur’s campaign had been overwhelmingly positive since news of his heroic bravery against the robber satisfied the desire for action and justice in the people of the city. Their reassurement had changed Wilbur into an entirely different person, and his self-confidence was subtle but there. Tommy noticed, Fundy had noticed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked up to the stage with fire in his steps, passion gleaming in his eyes. The positive screaming grows tenfold when the people lay their eyes upon him, the young man that would bring their city to glory, to become a better place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur takes his place at his stand, tapping his microphone slightly before grinning. “Hello everyone.” The people go wild. “Before we get started, just remember that I’m here for you. If you need anything, I’m willing to sacrifice everything for you. That is what a true leader should be, and if you’re ready for a true leader, a good leader...well, then the time for your decision is coming soon. I hope you think of me, as I’ll be thinking of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crowd cheers and Wilbur smiles, the sound of approval twinkling like music in his ears. But behind him, Fundy and Tommy stand together, the two of them watching their friend, their brother, make his mark on the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure that the man won’t talk.” Tommy mutters under his breath, eyes carefully taking in Wilbur’s heroic gestures and expressions. Fundy nods. “He’s been paid handsomely. He supports Wilbur too. He’ll only be in jail for a few days, since no harm was really done. But it was enough, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy scoffs. “I’ll be damned, Fundy. I really didn’t think planting a scene like that would take off, but it helped everything. It helped Punz and the rest of those rich bastards believe in Will. Helped the people look up to Will. Helped him believe in himself again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We said that we would do whatever it takes.” Fundy shrugs, smiling slyly. “Sometimes, this is how you have to win.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy crosses his arms, looking at his brother with approval. “He will win.” His eyes soften. “It’s his rightful role.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>heyyyyy its wilbur! next chapter focuses on tommy. then we cycle back to dream. no idea when i'll post the next one whoops</p><p>in the meantime i hope you enjoyed this!</p><p> </p><p>if any cc are uncomfortable with the fic, please reach out and i will take it down.</p><p>@/haejungg_ on twitter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. emerald star</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“You’re a fighter.”</p><p>“You’ve got a sense of justice in you.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tommy has always wanted to be a hero. All good guys were heroes. All the heroes got the glory, the fame, the ladies. More than that, the heroes were helping others, especially those that could not help themselves. That was the best part of the stories that his dad read to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Contrary to what Wilbur knows, he does remember his childhood quite vividly. He knows that his dad found him after he found his other brothers. He was a little toddler, sitting on a bench, alone, and his dad told him many times that it was almost like he was waiting for someone to return. His dad waited with him for a while, but as soon as it got dark and it seemed like no one was coming, his dad officially became his dad. Tommy didn’t really mind. As he grew from a toddler into a child, he was a fairly reckless kid (he still never really grew out of that phase) and found himself causing trouble for no apparent reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a fighter.” His dad would laugh at him and often sit by the side with Wilbur while Tommy would roughhouse with the oldest brother in their humble abode in the woods. “You’ve got a sense of justice in you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The oldest brother never let him win a fight, and eventually stopped indulging him altogether. Wilbur much rather preferred to read or play in the flower field, which was boring to Tommy. Therefore Tommy, the youngest, latched onto his dad’s side like a leech. His dad played catch with him, listened to music with him, and spent the most amount of time with him. Tommy was the one who watched with rapt attention as his dad carved out three different symbols out of the same bark, and he was the first one who got a complete necklace. His dad smiled and ruffled his hair fondly, while Tommy held the clean sword charm in front of his eyes, wide in awe. He was younger, and he’d craved the attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy remembers their home in the woods. It was a little humble abode, and far from the city. Since he was the last one to be taken in, he shared a room with Wilbur, which was fine with him. Wilbur liked him more than the eldest, but Tommy found himself sneaking into his dad’s room whenever there was a bad storm. Even when he was a fairly independent and capable child, he regressed to his dad’s warm embrace to always calm him down. He got hot-headed easily, and when both of his brothers started to get older, they started to grow up without him, becoming more moody and complicated in ways that a young Tommy never understood. Even his dad became more lost, more blank and difficult to read. Tommy found himself, for a good portion of the end of his childhood, confused by the people around him that he cherished the most. They were all becoming so different from him, his blatant statements and clear intentions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>People underestimate him because of his childish and brash personality, which is fine with him. When people underestimate you, it’s easier to prove them wrong, to show them how much more powerful you are. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he and Wilbur agreed on one thing - when they came back to this city, after they were abandoned twice - they refused to think about their so-called family. They mutually agreed to never say their names, because what the two older ones did to them hurt, hurt much more than they cared to admit. Wilbur didn’t talk about it a lot. Tommy knew that Wilbur kept his emotions locked inside his head, and the two of them never really talked about their past, or how it truly affected them. And because Wilbur never talked about it, Tommy never talked about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy never got to talk about how his “dad” shut down after the eldest child left home without any explanation. Tommy never got to talk about how he and Wilbur were left alone in the house for weeks when their dad left to go search for him. Tommy never got to talk about how he and Wilbur were in the house for a month before they ran out of food, and a teenage Wilbur grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the house, never to return because there was nothing to return to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since that day, Tommy knew that Wilbur was his hero. It used to be his dad. But it changed when their dad left them. Wilbur was the one who grew up, took control of the situation and worked hard to support him and Tommy when they arrived at the city. Tommy was the child who sat behind Wilbur as he sang for money in the streets, and Tommy lived out the rest of his childhood when Wilbur finally managed to acquire a small home on one of the poorest edges of the community. But it was theirs - and nobody would be able to take that away from them. And as Wilbur became more established, making money through music, and eventually through entertaining and writing, and eventually through talking to important and powerful people and impressing them, Tommy was beside him through it all. Together, they started a new life on their one, surviving even through the terrible storm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy was his brother’s right hand man, and he was his hero. Despite their bantering (which has considerably worsened since Tommy entered his teenage years), Tommy has respect for Wilbur, and he doesn’t respect many authority figures in his life. He knew that Wilbur was a good person, through and through - and an even better leader, meant for a role that would help people just like how Wilbur had always been able to help him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was why he pushed the presidency so much. He knew that being a leader was hard, but that was why he was also running for vice president. He sucked up his pride and </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> to keep his personality in check because winning this election would mean that he and Wilbur made it. They made it on their own, because of their work, their hard efforts, and because they overcame many many obstacles that plagued them since their births. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A deeper part of him also finds himself hating Schlatt - hating him for what he became, after years of admiration. Tommy thought Schlatt was a great person, a smart person, a wise figure who was a friend to Wilbur and a mentor to himself. But when Schlatt fell from grace, it was sickening for Tommy. He knows how much harder it was more Wilbur. Losing Schlatt - figuratively and literally, reminded Tommy of the dull ache and pain of abandonment that reminded him </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> he resents the idea of family. He doesn’t need a family, not when all they do is leave in the end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So no matter what happens, Tommy can’t lose Wilbur too. Not after he’s lost so many of his heroes already. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He notices that he’s being followed after a meeting at the capitol building for vice presidents specifically. The meeting itself was silly in Tommy’s opinion, the rest of the VP elects too chicken-shit to ever say what they wanted, always hiding behind the shadow of their president elect’s ideals. Tommy wasn’t like that. He would say what he wanted, proud of his ideas, and stand by Wilbur as an equal. He left the meeting, feeling like he simply wasted his time with a bunch of losers, when a low hiss emerged from the shadows of an alleyway he passed by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stops short, and his hand immediately goes to his sword in his harness. Most people carried weapons on them in the city, and Tommy was no exception. As much as Wilbur tried to suppress Tommy’s rash tendencies, the minute Tommy got his hands on the materials to craft a sword on his own, Wilbur gave up and purchased a first aid kit. Several first aid kits in the house. Now, after a couple of years of improving his sword fighting abilities, he’s leveled up from a wooden sword to a sturdy diamond sword, Tommy’s most prized possession. It nearly cost him his life when he mined for the sword on his own, and though Wilbur made him promise to never go into the caves or the mountains again, Tommy had no regrets. Hand on the handle of his sword, Tommy listens carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hiss emerges again, and Tommy draws his sword, turning around immediately to point it at the scrawny looking man who steps from the shadows into the light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Quackity</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Tommy sneers, and the man smirks, rolling the sleeves of his blue shirt up. “Hey Tommy. You look like you just got out of an important meeting.” Tommy instinctively looks at his own crumpled blouse, tucked into his everyday pants. He rolls his eyes. “Not like you look any better, Big Q.” The man shrugs himself, his floppy black hair flapping around with every head movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you know? I’m a therapist now. I’ve changed my career for the better.” Quackity’s shit-eating grin is starting to piss Tommy off, and he scoffs, sliding his sword back into its harness. “I thought you worked at some fast food joint last week. I swear you took my order for a sandwich.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity’s eyebrow twitches slightly. “I’ve changed Tommy! I’m a respectable man now!!” Tommy actually laughs out loud at that. “Why the hell are you following me Quackity? Are you going to be a registered stalker by next week?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other man walks side by side with Tommy as he makes his way down the path, seemingly undeterred by Tommy’s harsh tone. “Well, since I’m a therapist now, and everybody could use a lil therapy, if you know what I mean, I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re okay! I bet you’re probably a little stressed right now, what with election day being in a few days.” Quackity’s eyes suddenly flash dangerously, and Tommy knows that there’s a glint that hints at more depth to Quackity’s kooky and disoriented character than meets the general eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s fine Big Q. Wilbur is well prepared for any results, but we have high hopes. We feel very confident.” Tommy answers easily. Quackity doesn’t falter though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur Soot...your brother is quite the guy, huh. A musician, a common man, but also a mastermind with charisma and a silk tongue. Wasn’t he friends with our last dictator?” Tommy tries to hide his simmering annoyance, trying not to make a scene - Quackity, the local crackhead, just wasn’t worth the time or the effort. “Wilbur and Schlatt hadn’t talked for a year, when Schlatt came into power. Ask Wilbur, ask anybody who knows Wilbur - Schlatt only brought this place to ruin and chaos because of his greed. Wilbur is the opposite. He’s gonna bring good to this place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity’s smile seems to widen endlessly. “What about you Tommy? What do you have to offer as vice president of this place, this nation?” Tommy bristles. “I have lots to offer. I’m Wilbur’s right hand man.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Does he really trust you? Do you really trust him?” Quackity presses and Tommy whips around to face Quackity angrily. “The hell are you on about?! How dare you question my intentions, my loyalty to my own damn brother?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity smirks, and Tommy is too busy fuming to care that he’s lost his temper. “You’re just a kid, Tommy. Do you even know what it takes to be in a position of power like this? You and your brother have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into. Wilbur’s going to end up just like Schlatt, and then who’ll be around to take care of you then?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy pulls out his sword and slams Quackity up against a wall, pressing the blade dangerously close to the other man’s neck. Finally, Quackity widens his eyes and starts to sweat, shutting up quickly. “Fuck off Big Q.” Tommy all but sneers, leaning in close to Quackity’s face with an ugly look. “If you keep pissing me off, you won’t be happy when we win the election.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity lets out a breathy nervous laugh. “You know what? You're crazy, man. You’re a loose cannon, and Wilbur is hiding something behind his perfect little facade. Maybe I’ll run in the next election, see if a political career is for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy presses the edge of his sword a little harder into the delicate skin of Quackity’s neck. “I’d like to see you fucking try.” With that final threat hanging in the air between them, Tommy releases Quackity, the other boy letting out a deep breath. Tommy walks away, and Quackity stares after him as he walks down the path to his home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sniffing slightly, Quackity scowls and adjusts the beanie on his head. Faint whispers seem to surround him and Quackity looks around in a sudden panic. “What the fuck…” He whispers to himself. A cool wind blows across the back of his neck, causing little hairs to stand up on edge, and Quackity shivers. It was summer - but he doesn’t know why he feels so cold all of a sudden. Ignoring it and praying that nothing was following him, the man stalks back to the shadows from whence he came from, scowling and muttering under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Tommy had to trust one other person in this entire city with his life besides Wilbur, it would be his best friend, Tubbo. The boy was the same age as Tommy, and they met when Wilbur and Tommy just came to the city. After days of sitting on the streets, with Wilbur off making money, Tommy had been wandering on his own, exploring with a wooden toy sword at his side. He pretended that he was battling a valiant dragon, slicing through the air dramatically while whooping. He passed by a park, and noticed that some other kids were laughing at something on the ground. Frowning slightly, Tommy followed the sound of sniffling until he came closer, realizing that the group of kids were pointing and laughing at a young boy, almost younger looking than Tommy - a huge oversized green shirt hung off of the boys skinny frame and his blonde hair was dirty and unkempt. The kids were kicking dirt at the boy on the ground, who was crying and Tommy snarled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If no one else would step in and be the hero - he would just have to do it himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started yelling incomprehensibly, waving the sword around wildly as he screamed bloody murder at the group of kids - immediately, they startled, and ended up running off when Tommy advanced faster towards them with even more aggression than before. When they were gone and Tommy approached the boy on the ground, the poor kid curled into himself, trembling slightly. Tommy frowned and kneeled down besides him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy opens one eye, peeking out at Tommy. Hesitantly, he nods his head and slowly lifts his face, big eyes staring at Tommy intently. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy shrugged, grinning. “I wanted to. Do you want to play?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Play what?” The boy tilted his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy smirks and hands his sword to the boy. “Kill the dragon.” Slowly, the boy takes the wooden sword in awe - and then a brilliant sweet smile bursts out on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the beginning of a strong friendship - near brotherhood. Although Tommy was never explicitly affectionate with his friend, most (Wilbur) knew better. Tommy and Tubbo were practically attached to the hips as they grew up from the last remaining days of childhood and sprinted full speed into young adolescence. When Tommy hung out with Schlatt, Tubbo was often with them, looking up to Schlatt and Wilbur just as much as Tommy did. Wilbur treated Tubbo like a younger brother, and Tubbo - who was an orphan just like Tommy, accepted the treatment gratefully. The two of them battled imaginary dragons, explored unknown territory, and eventually snuck out of the walls to go on adventures for more gear and more material items. But when they became a little older, a little wiser, they started to become busy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy was working on the campaign with Wilbur. Tubbo had not only picked up a job as an assistant to Niki at the bakery, but had also become an assistant to Sam - one of the biggest providers of food in the entire city. Tubbo had explained that he wanted to work for his success, inspired by Wilbur’s work ethic in previous years - and Tommy had supported his friend wholeheartedly. It just became harder for the two of them to find time to hang out with each other as much as before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(And only Tommy knew that Tubbo had more than these two taxing jobs - Tubbo had a secret job at night, and made Tommy swear to keep the secret with him to his grave. Tommy had whined and complained enough - it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>such</span>
  </em>
  <span> a cool job. It was unfair of Tubbo to keep it all to himself.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whenever Tommy needs someone to talk to, rant, or get any advice from, he seeks out Tubbo unconsciously when he doesn't want to bother Wilbur. Usually, whenever Wilbur does something annoying, or ticks Tommy in the wrong way, he ends up seeking Tubbo’s advice anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy had grown into a smarter and stronger young man, somebody who had also stood by Tommy’s side as they watched leaders rise and fall, friends fading away with bittersweet memories. Tubbo had become a strong foil to Tommy’s brash and aggressive nature, a beacon of rationality and logic that trumped immediate actions. He was more cautious, more careful now. He worked harder, keeping his goals attainable and reasonable. And though sometimes Tubbo could still be a clumsy silly guy, the world kept turning - and he had to grow up fast in order to keep up with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy bursts out of the house when Wilbur and Fundy are talking about some political concession speech (in case they lose, which Tommy scoffs at) that Tommy could care less about. Something was itching at his skin, something calling to him to get out of the cramped indoors and spend some time outside - outside in nature, </span>
  <em>
    <span>even outside of the walls</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sudden determination to be spontaneous and irresponsible, he grabs his sword and enters the community stables in the neighborhood. He nods at the stable boys and makes his way to his prized beauty, a flaxen chestnut mare with white spots. Smiling genuinely at his horse, Tommy pets her side comfortingly. “Hey Cat.” He says fondly, before heaving a saddle on her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t usually take Cat out, and Cat is a relatively new possession of his - Eret, one of their more kind and generous donors, as well as friend, had provided a horse for him and Wilbur. Wilbur had a great white stallion with black spots, and both horses were fast and strong. They were supposed to be for faster travel around the city - and for where Tommy was heading, he intended to travel quite a ways away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes of preparing Cat for the ride, Tommy is off, waving at the stable boys who eagerly wave back at him, whispering amongst themselves in awe. As Tommy is riding off into the streets, ignoring the people who rush to get out of his way in annoyance, Tommy can’t help but grin. Cat likes to go fast, and Tommy likes fast. Today, Tubbo was working at Sam’s farms, a far off territory near the south of the city. With rolling hills that somehow fit within the walls, Sam monopolized the food industry - his farms hosted sustainable cow, pig, and sheep houses, as well as plenty of crops that grew. Many citizens worked under Sam, but Sam was often found working in the fields himself, despite also controlling all of the economical business aspects of the industry. He was a good man, down-to-earth and honest, and Tommy bregrundidly will admit that Sam is alright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo always berates Tommy for even thinking that Sam is alright. After Sam saw how hard Tubbo worked as a regular field worker, he promoted the young boy and the two of them grew a close and quick bond. (Tommy was definitely NOT jealous.) Tubbo considers Sam a good friend and a mentor to him like Wilbur is to Tommy, and many times, Sam’s tried to offer Tubbo more lucrative jobs in the hierarchy of the food empire he’s built. But although Tubbo looks up to Sam greatly, he only has time to help the man with general maintenance in the biggest farm building where the potato crops are located. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy rides Cat for an hour, from the center of the city all the way to the south end, finally slowing down when Sam’s huge farms come into sight. After tying Cat to the fences and patting her once again fondly, Tommy makes his way down to the potato building, pushing the doors open dramatically. “Tubbo!!” He calls out loudly, other workers looking up in slight annoyance. Tommy doesn’t come here often, but he’s come here enough that the workers recognize him (and probably resent him, although Tommy has no idea why). Faint shuffling from upstairs, the big man's office and Tommy looks up before yelling out “TUBBO!!!” again. More shuffling, a door slamming, and heavy footsteps clambering down the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo (Sam behind him) looks disheveled, a brown jacket thrown over his trademark green shirt, which he’s grown into nicely since he was a kid, and his messy pants. His blonde looks like he’s been running his hand through his hair compulsively again, and his eyes widen at Tommy’s presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy? The hell are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy smirks at him, but he taps his feet nervously, agitated on the floor. “I’ve gotta talk to you Tubbo. It’s important.” Tubbo looks around, where everybody is staring at them. “Really? Now? While I’m at work? This is just incredibly inconsiderate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy rolls his eyes and lunges forward, grabbing Tubbo’s wrist and pulling him outside, waving slightly at Sam. “Sorry Sam, just borrowing him real quick, hope I’m not disturbing you too much!” Sam snorts, waving back. “You’re always a disturbance Tommy!” He calls back, but has somewhat of a fond smile on his face while he says it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basking in the warm sunlight as the two boys emerge from the cool interior of the warehouse, Tommy lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. “Jesus, you rode Cat all the way here? Tommy, is everything okay? Is something wrong?” Tubbo looks panicked, and Tommy quickly shakes his head. “Tubbo, listen. Everything’s fine - but </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> not fine. I’ve been so busy these past few weeks, I’m literally going to tear my hair out. I’m-I’m agitated, I’ve got to go out and </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo blinks. “You came to bother me at work because you’re bored?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy blinks back. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo puts his face in his hands. “Oh god.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo, hear me out. You and I, we take off right now, spend the night in the woods, camp a little, just like when we were kids. We can explore and just take a damn break. You’re tired man, I know you are. So am I. I think we both need this.” Tommy explains. Tubbo shakes his head. “Tommy, I can’t just take a break randomly in the middle of the week.” He hisses, then looking around to make sure they’re alone, leans in to whisper, “Besides I can’t do anything tonight. I’m going out already.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy widens his eyes. “I thought you two stopped for a little while.” Tubbo looks away. “Well, there’s this orphanage on the west side. They’re struggling, have been for a while. And they need medicine - not something that Eret can just get regularly. So we’re breaking into the pharmacy and just taking what we need. Eret will comp them later. But the pharmacy workers are kind of mean anyways, so they deserve it. There are little girls who have been sick for weeks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy admires his friend so much. “Good on you man.” He claps his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, a genuine smile gracing his face. “Ey, let me know if you and Eret ever need a third man for your little secret robin-hood operations. I’m always down, you know me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo shakes his head seriously, but a slight smile slips onto his face. “Tommy, you’re so loud, you could never do what we do. But I appreciate the sentiment all the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy lets go of Tubbo’s shoulder. “So nothing tonight. I hear you. But Tubbo, please, can we do something together soon? We just haven’t…” He trails off, somewhat lost. “I just haven’t seen you in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo sighs. “I know. I’m sorry, I’m so busy.” The two teenagers fall into a sense of silence, each thinking about their own respective responsibilities. Finally, Tubbo looks up at Tommy with something glimmering in his eyes. “You know what. Sure. Let’s do it. Let’s go away for a couple of days. Give me some time to work it out with Niki, Sam, and Eret. I’ll free up my schedule. You free up yours too and we’ll make a day of it. You take out Cat, I’ll take out Spots. It’ll be a weekend getaway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy immediately lights up. “Yes! Okay, perfect! This is gonna be incredible Tubbo, I can already feel it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo laughs. “Alright, let me go tell Sam now. You really didn’t have to ride all the way out here. I could’ve come over tonight before me and Eret go out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy shrugs. “Don’t know how to explain it, but you’re seriously underestimating this sudden craving I’ve been having to get out to the woods. We’ve explored so much, but there’s still so much out there. And…everything’s so crazy in these little walls. I just need to get out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo nods in understanding. “The election results will be revealed next week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sighs. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all becoming real, then.” Tubbo says mildly. Tommy snorts. “Yeah, and it’s going to be great.” But even Tommy doesn’t believe his own voice, his own conviction fading somewhat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo hesitates, but slightly knocks Tommy’s side with his own shoulder. “In the meantime, you wanna stay and hang with me and Sam? We were going to go check on things in the fields, do our rounds. You can tag along if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy beams and follows after Tubbo brightly. The rest of the afternoon is a warm and sunny one, with Sam, Tommy, and Tubbo cracking jokes and laughing and having a good time while they make their way around the fields. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when the sun starts to set, Sam watches Tubbo and Tommy set off for home, with the two of them walking as Tommy leads Cat behind him with a lead. Sam nods once in satisfaction before moving to close up shop - when he notices the crystal clear sky. All of the lanterns in the fields had been extinguished, so the night sky stretched out into inky blacks across the sky above him, the bright stars clear in sight. Sam tilts his head slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moon was full tonight - completely uncovered, her full luminance brightening up the sky around her. Sam knew that full moons meant something special. He smiles to himself and heads back inside. It must be a good sign, an omen that positive things were coming ahead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going?” Tommy looks up from his overnight bag at Wilbur, who walks in through the front door. It’s been a few days, Tubbo finally has a free day tomorrow, and it’s dark out, but Tommy is so excited that he’s burning a little extra candlelight to pack in preparation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not going anywhere tonight.” Tommy says, his attention going back to pushing a blanket into his pack. “But tomorrow, Tubbo and I are gonna head out of the walls, take a little break from everything. We haven’t caught up in a good bit, thought it would be good for the two of us to clear our heads.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur frowns slightly. “But...the election results are next week. I need you here Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looks up at that, mouth parted slightly in surprise. “Oh. Well, no, I’ll still be here Wilbur! We’ll only be gone for a night, max. Promise I’ll be back well before the election results. I’m still your right hand man, Wilbur, don’t forget.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur blinks. “I need you here Tommy. We’ve got speeches, we’ve got to go door-to-door, make sure our support is solid. I’m sorry, but you can’t just disappear the week before the results are revealed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy frowns. “Wilbur, it’s only for a day. I promise I will make up all my responsibilities when I get back. You won’t miss me at all. I think our chances are solid and we’re going to do well. Haven’t you seen our numbers? Fundy put together a great picture of potential results.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now he starts to get angry at Wilbur’s carefully blank but stern expression. “What, Wilbur?! I’m burned out man, I’m sorry! I need some time alone, because otherwise, I won’t be at my best for next week. I need this - we’ve been going nonstop for so long, and I’m trying to stay strong for you, because you’re not strong enough for yourself. But I’m human too. I just want to hang out with Tubbo, please, is that too much to ask for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur’s eyes seem to flash in anger. “I’m burnt out. Fundy’s burnt out. We’re all tired, but we’re not letting that get in the way of our most critical moments for victory. You cannot be the one who pushed me to do this, and then bail on me at the last second!” His voice starts to get louder, and Tommy starts to bristle in anger, something truly ugly that rears inside of him at the thought of Wilbur taking his time away from Tubbo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he settles at the last moment, taking a deep breath in. He has to be the mature one here, if Wilbur’s going to act like a fucking child. He has to be the hero, if no one else is going to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur, I think you’re tired. Get some rest. We can talk about this more tomorrow. Have you been drinking? Man, go brush your teeth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur scoffs and brushes Tommy off, going into the bathroom. “Fundy and I were just talking to voters at the pub.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy grimaces. “More like pubs, plural. Careful of the juice, big brother. Don’t want you to end up a dead man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slight threat hangs over them like a heavy weight. The meaning behind Tommy’s words hurt them both, and Tommy knows this - recognizes the flash of hurt that stretches across Wilbur’s eyes before it’s gone in an instant and the older man slams the bathroom door shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sighs and shoves the rest of his bag under the bed, getting under the covers and pulling it over his head. Shutting his eyes, he ignores the sounds of Wilbur getting ready for bed, crawling into his own bed and eventually presumably falling asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy is awake long after Wilbur starts to snore lightly, thoughts running through his mind like a sprinter, reaching out for a finish line that seems to extend farther and farther away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy purposefully wakes up before Wilbur the next morning, not even bothering to leave a note, and meets Tubbo in a sorry state of silence and repressed annoyance. At the stables, Tubbo seems to instantly understand Tommy’s bad mood and keeps the conversation to a minimum. The two of them have their overnight bags, and prep their horses for the travels. After preparing, the two of them take off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing about the walls is that there is only one public entrance that allows travellers and people on horses to go in and out from. The east entrance is protected and monitored by the city guards, and though Jack Manifold is a lenient chief of guard, there’s a better, more subtle entrance in the walls that Tommy and Tubbo prefer to take. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Near Sam’s fields, there’s a small entrance large enough for horses to get through, and usually it’s reserved for imports and exports specifically for Sam’s farms. The entrance is largely unguarded because Sam and Jack have some sort of agreement, and most city leaders aren’t even aware of its existence. Tommy and Tubbo take their horses down to Sam’s farms, and emerge from the other side of the walls, turning to each other with a knowing grin - before they each urge their horses to go faster, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and the two of them ride off into the woods, whooping and cheering and racing each other along the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spend the day goofing off, riding until their horses are tired, and then setting up camp. The two of them pick fruits from ripening trees, and talk and talk and talk about everything and nothing and all in between. Tommy expresses his frustrations with Wilbur - and Tubbo is the sense of reason who brings up that the election was important, and being there for Wilbur in these stressful times would be really helpful. They decide to only stay out for the night, so that Tommy could get back to Wilbur quickly the next day. On the other hand, Tubbo offhandedly mentions that he doesn’t think the vigilante life is quite for him, the appeal of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor not really sitting right with his consciousness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously I look up to Eret. He’s like...another older brother to me. But he’s...rich. For him, it’s all kind of a game. And I feel bad for stealing. I know we don’t do it for fun, but to me, I think there are other ways to help everyone - not just one side or the other. I don’t know how to tell any of this to him. I don’t want him to hate me, or think I don’t agree with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy doesn’t give great advice - but he listens to his friend, and offers his condolences, his unwavering support no matter what Tubbo decides to do. Unsaid between them, the two of them can feel their youth slipping from their grasps, the time they should’ve had as kids getting lost with how fast the world turned around them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they’re not talking about their current issues and problems, the two of them talk about the mere ideas that run through their minds more often than not. Though both homeschooled by Wilbur and several other figures throughout the community, they both knew of the legend of the land. The “hunter”, the god that represented vitality and the fragility of humanity. The supposed god that the Blade fought, causing the Terrible Storm in the first place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> the legend. He loved the idea of a god who lived in the forest, having the power that balanced life in the palms of his hand, and used his powers for good, to be a hero.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo, on the other hand, is afraid of the ending of the story. He has to always remind Tommy that the god became evil in the end, and ultimately caused the Terrible Storm to happen in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but at least the god was epic.” Tommy tries to reason. The campfire is slowly trickling out, the darkness beginning to envelope them fully as the day comes to a close. After a full day of fun and hanging out, the two of them were calmly resting and talking in the quiet of the forest. They had set up a large tent, and placed enough torches around the place that not many mobs were likely to come and attack them unknowingly. Their horses relaxed a few feet away, secured to a nearby tree. This wasn’t their first rodeo in the wilderness by themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because he stood for good things, didn’t make him a good person.” Tubbo shrugs, pulling his knees into his chest. “He caused chaos, hurt people for no reason. He took his power and abused it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was probably a good reason why.” Tommy argues. “He’s still a hero in my book - he’d always intended to be there for the people, no matter what. Fighting the Blade and destroying both of them? It was the ultimate sacrifice, to make sure that neither of them ended up in power after all. I think he’s got the best sense of justice for all, even if he got lost on the way..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo hums. “To each his own, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy thinks for a moment, then suddenly sits up straight. “Didn’t there used to be a temple for the god? Mans didn’t just live in the woods by himself right? He had a home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo blinks and the small fire glows on his face. “We are not going to go look for a temple belonging to a god. It’s a myth, just a legend. You can’t be serious!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking for it surprisingly, doesn’t take long. Tommy pushes through the dark forest with torches, Tubbo looking around them cautiously, wary of the mobs that seem to hide away from the flame in Tommy’s hands. Even though he thinks they’re fairly safe (scoping out the area earlier in the day was helpful), Tubbo’s hand still gravitates towards the sword at his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy grunts as he pushes through branches and leaves, but they suddenly break out from the trees, coming face to face with a river. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah.” Tommy breathes out, eyes widening. Even Tubbo inhales sharply, looking at the quiet but flowing river in front of them. The bank was wide, and the two of them wonder if this has always been here. They did go deeper into the forest today thanks to the mobility of their horses, and Tubbo faintly wonders how crazy it would be if all the legends, all the myths were true. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden urge to follow the river suddenly fills his soul. “Upstream or downstream?” Tubbo hears himself saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy seems to be in a trance. “Down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them stay by the river, waving the torch at a few mobs who still stay behind the treeline. They follow the river downstream, and watch in amazement as it starts to widen and stretch, becoming bigger and bigger and more intense and rapid. Before they know it, the small forest river has turned into a full on rapids, and the roaring of water crashing - Tubbo stops Tommy from walking forward any more. He points in front of them and Tommy laughs incredulously. “What the fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ground suddenly cuts off, a cliff hanging over the edge, with the river flowing into a massive waterfall that seems so high off the ground, the two boys can’t even see the bottom. Even though it’s night, the full moon above them seems to shine extra brightly, illuminating their surroundings in a bright and clear vision. Tubbo shakes his head in amazement. “I had no idea that this was here. Who knew we were so close to a waterfall this huge?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looks around, before squinting at something large looming in the distance, except...it’s not on the other side of the river. “Tubbo, do you see that?” He asks, and his friend looks in the direction he points at. The other boy widens his eyes. “Is that...a building?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is. But it’s too dark and too far away to see for sure - the looming shape sits on the water on an island of sorts, close to the edge of the waterfall. Tommy frowns. “How are we supposed to get over there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo looks at his friend with surprise. “You want to die? Look at how crazy this river is! There’s no possible way to swim across it. There’s no way to get there from here.” Tommy frowns and starts to look around them. Tubbo shakes his head. “I don’t know about this Tommy, we should probably get back to our camp. We’ve left Cat and Spots alone for too long already.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy starts knocking against random rocks along the shore, and checking the trunks of nearby trees. Tubbo looks at him unimpressed. “If you think you can find some sort of secret button that’ll let you get over there, you’re going to be disappointed. I don’t think that’s something that happens in real life Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy frowns as he knocks against some hollow sounding tree bark. Tubbo rolls his eyes and looks back at the temple in the distance. It looks old and ruined, and overgrown with greenery and vines. It’s actually impressive that they were able to see it - there’s a fog that seems to have come out of nowhere, almost obscuring the building from their sight. The almost unnatural ability for the huge building to seem so far away only goes to show how huge the river is, expanding and widening in the face of the waterfall - which to Tubbo, seems like it cuts off the land from the end of the world. Tubbo wouldn’t even be surprised if there was nothing at the bottom of the fall - just empty space that kept going and going until you were falling forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stands suddenly, and walks closer to the edge of the cliff - immediately Tubbo widens his eyes. “Tommy, NO! What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other boy seems to be in a trance, narrowing his eyes at the sharp and jagged rocks too close to the edge. “Those rocks lead to the island. If we hold onto them, we can get across.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo shakes his head. “The current is too strong and the rocks are too slippery. Tommy, I really think we should go. We can get a boat or something and come back - this isn't worth dying for right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy shoves the torch into Tubbo’s hand, and is already taking off his coat, revealing his plain shirt and trousers underneath. After some consideration, he takes his boots off, leaving them on the side with his jacket, and drops his harness with the sword. “Oh my god, you’re leaving your weapon too!!” Tubbo squeaks and before he knows it Tommy is stepping into the water with bare feet and wincing at the cold. But he wades through the calmer parts closer to the shore before finally climbing onto the first black jagged rock. The path of rocks that Tommy plans on using are big, but they’re pointy, and not flat enough for anybody to comfortably stand on. “Tommy, please reconsider!” Tubbo calls out exasperated, still looking around waving the torch to keep mobs away. “Tubbo, just come on!!” The other boy calls back, surprisingly making his way from rock to rock fairly quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo groans and looks around nervously - before he sticks the torch in the ground, taking off his jacket and shoes and getting into the water to wade over to the first rock. The two boys move slowly, fighting against the current as the rocks get larger and the river gets deeper. The island and the dilapidated building on it gets larger and larger the closer the two boys get to the island, and their path is almost illuminated by the bright moonlight from the full moon. The fog seems to fade away when Tommy pulls himself up onto the edge of the island, and as he holds out his hand for Tubbo to grab onto, he pulls the other boy onto the land with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them breath heavily, tiredness seeping from the tension in their bodies. “You’re an idiot.” Tubbo wheezes. Tommy sits up, the temple, larger than life, looming behind them. “C’mon. Let’s go explore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moonlight is bright enough to barely illuminate the temple - or what's left of it anyways. Tall but broken down pillars are covered with overgrown vines, a deep rich green color that is spotted with tiny white flowers that seem to glow more in the moonlight. There is no ceiling, and rubble seems to be leftover from some great explosion or destruction. Tommy and Tubbo look around in wonder as they take in the ruined temple. The floor used to be of some sort of marble material, but moss and grass had overgrown, and only spots of marble remained. Tubbo’s eyes are wide as he takes everything in. “What the hell is this.” He breathes out, and Tommy laughs in disbelief. “You didn’t think it was real!! Isn’t this so fucking cool?!” He gestures around him wildly, running towards the center of the temple. “Look at this Tubbo! A temple of the god, in the middle of the river! The god of the hunt, the god that looked over these lands, man! Do you think this is where he and the Blade fought?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Tubbo yells out, “Tommy look out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy widens his eyes, when he sees that the ground underneath his bare feet shifts, and before he knows it, the ground collapses underneath and he screams as he falls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo scrambles over to the crater in the ground, right in front of the old chipped marble pedestal in the center of the temple, panicked. “Tommy?! TOMMY!” He yells out, rubble crumbling and falling underneath his fingertips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hole is dark, and not as deep as he initially thought, although Tommy is feeling a little overwhelmed from the sudden fall. Tubbo’s voice is above him, but Tommy doesn’t really understand what he’s saying. The moonlight barely lights up the damp earth that he’s fallen into, and the ground is surprisingly dry for being in the middle of a river. Looking around, Tommy squints as he tries to find something that he can climb out of the hole with. Tubbo calls down, “I’m going to look for something to get you out of there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then his friend's shadow disappears above him. Tommy squints at the light and looks around him again, slightly dazed. He stands, grabbing at the walls of the hole, fingers pulling away dirt and rock in a futile effort to get out. He sighs, slightly concerned, until his gaze falls on something in the other side of the hole. Furrowing his eyebrows, Tommy goes over to the soft light, and his face goes slack. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tubbo heaves a large but sturdy vine and drops one end of it into the hole. “Tommy, climb up!” He calls out. The boy holds the vine in place as Tommy uses it to climb up out of the hole, and when Tommy collapses on the surface, Tubbo finally relaxes. “You’re the worst.” Tubbo mumbles, staring at the sky. When Tommy doesn’t respond, Tubbo looks over at his friend with slight concern. Then he widens his own eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy is holding a crystalline gem - it’s almost in the shape of a star, and gleams with an unnatural bright green color that seems to be glowing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell is that?” Tubbo breathes out in amazement, wide eyes glued to the glowing gem in Tommy’s hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for the first time in a long time, Tommy is completely speechless. The gem is pulsating, as if it had a life of its own. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either - it fit perfectly into the palms of Tommy’s hand, as if he was meant to find this. As if the stars had foretold this themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea.” Tommy finally breathes out. The darkness seems to fade away, and the two boys find themselves drawn to the light, the beauty of it - and the millions of questions that seemed to race through their heads and run through their beating hearts all at once.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hope this was good :) dsmp! tommy is currently making me sad :) so have this happy au tommy instead :) for now anyways :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>some things before anything else:</p><p>. if you made it to the end of this first part, congrats! you've got a storm coming if i continue this.</p><p>. this takes place within Minecraft, like an alternate universe. i was inspired by all the ghosts haunting the SMP at the moment, but besides a few similarities, this is not within the canon of the Dream SMP. This is like an alternate universe, please take concepts and ideas with a grain of salt. </p><p>. I genuinely did not know if I wanted to write this, much less post it, because I wasn't sure how I felt about shipping (even "characters" in a RP minecraft server). I want to make it very clear that I am only shipping the minecraft characters, i'm not trying to make anyone uncomfortable in real life. also, to be very clear, this is a story about three characters - Dream, Wilbur, and Tommy. Dream's arc will have slight DreamNotFound, but nothing explicit. Besides some ambiguous Sapnap/Karl Jacobs later on, there will be NO SHIPPING OF ANY OTHER CHARACTERS. I know I'm talking a lot, but I really do want to ensure that everyone (and myself) are comfortable with the boundaries established in this story. if you are confused, i am more than happy to explain to you my reasoning privately. </p><p>if any cc are uncomfortable with the fic, please reach out and i will take it down.</p><p>@/haejungg_ on twitter.</p><p> </p><p>if you asked me when i was working on other stories during the summer if i thought i would find myself writing an intense, 3 main character arc grand epic journey at the end of 2020, i probably would've believed you. the world is a crazy place right now after all and anything can happen. stay safe, have hope for the future. sending lots of love. </p><p>xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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